


a spider by any other name

by scottmchungup



Series: Reasons why Peter Stark is grounded till forever [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: But also, Gen, Iron Dad, M/M, Peter Parker deserves a family send tweet, Peter Parker has a dirty little secret & superdads are big mad, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel), a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do ya feel, disgusting fluff mixed with just the right amount of angst, listen with civil war AND infinity war trying to break the band up, spider son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-05-29 21:33:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottmchungup/pseuds/scottmchungup
Summary: 5 times the Avengers met Spider-Man on accident, and the one time it was on purpose.All the Avengers know, and subsequently love Peter Parker Stark. Spider-Man however, is just a guy who they infrequently see at work. But when more of the team comes to town for the Stark-Rogers (possible) wedding Peter's secret alter ego gets more face time with the superheros than planned.





	1. Captain America

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends!! This is my purely self indulgent fic of both Peter Parker getting the love & family he DESERVES and the drama of hiding his spider secret (I am a glutton for angst). I am trash at writing fighting scenes so I decided to get this one out of the way---- any tips or ways to fix the fight mess drop a comment! The rest of the chapters will focus on individual (sometimes groups) of Avengers so our spider son will get plenty of face time with all the faves! Enjoy :-)

“-----and you’re not even listening!”

Peter Parker was about twenty seconds away from dozing off. And not in the cute, fall asleep, head-in-hand, minimum drool kind of way, but the kind that would mean definitely smacking his head on the table of this crowded cafeteria. Even if he went through with face planting into his textbook, even through all the laughter and commotion of the action, he would still probably find himself in a deep and reverent sleep and honestly he was starting to favor that deal. Who cares if all the best and brightest of the greater NY area would probably meme the hell out of this experience--- sleep, even the kind that came from being knocked unconscious was a very pertinent guest right now. Ned Leeds, best friend supreme, was probably the only thing keeping him awake.

“No, no I am listening… you said…” Involuntarily he closed his eyes again, and could feel the cool tug of sleep. Just five minutes. That’s all he needed, and then he’d be good.

“And now you’re falling asleep again----- DUDE!”

Peter snapped awake, blinking through his exhaustion like it was a physical obstacle.

“No! ‘m not falling asleep I was just…. Visualizing what you were saying.”

Although his yawn impaired his vision, Peter felt rather than saw Ned’s eye roll. “Really? Visualizing? With your eyes closed? Visualize this.” Ned gave him a particular finger and Peter laughed, swiping at his hand as a means to put it away.

Last night had been rough. He was so incredibly close to catching this big-bad who self-named himself ‘The Vulture’ when two of his henchmen had caught onto Spider-Man trailing them. They moved in a caravan, and Peter had taken a wrong guess as to which vehicle would be the most lucrative. ‘The Vulture’ got away in some stereotypical black SUV, but the one at the back of the parade hadn’t been so lucky. His goons were webbed up appropriately by the downtown 8th Bakery, with a note asking for a garbage pick-up ASAP. He hadn’t gotten their ring leader, but whatever was in that van had clearly been important enough for the guys to try (and fail) to barter their way out.

Now, Peter Parker was sitting in some public Brooklyn High School cafeteria waiting for the regional Decathlon match to begin. It was MJ’s first as captain and she had explicitly emphasized that she will castrate anyone under performing, so yeah, maybe he needed a wake up call.

“Seriously dude, where were you last night? Tony called my mom and I had to pretend like you were in the bathroom. For like hours. She thinks you’re trying to pass a kidney stone.”

With the bruises he got from last night, he’s starting to prefer some of the outlandish lies Ned makes up. The walnut sized bruise on his sternum was only just now fading, and that had been from a skirmish two days ago. He may heal fast but it seems like he stays eternally sore now.

“I know, I’m sorry, I was… busy. I almost caught that Vulture guy, it was…” awesome. “painful. He got away but I picked up some weird tech from his car I’ve got to decode…” He patted his backpack fondly as a reference. He would love to consult the world’s most brilliant man Tony Stark on this but explaining how exactly he got his hands on some black market tech was not a conversation he’d like to start.

“I promise to make it up to you, how about you stay at the compound this weekend? Tony put in a new surround sound so it’ll feel like we’re actually in Naboo when we watch Phantom Menance.”

Ned brought a hand to his face and stroked his chin as if in deep thought. It was clear since this morning that Ned wasn’t mad, just worried, but sweetening the deal was just a friendship courtesy. “Accept your apology, I do.” Ned answered.

Peter went in to solidify the deal with their hand shake, but before their fingers could meet, MJ appeared and slammed a dense pile of books on the space between them.

“Brought you nerds some homework.” She announced, gesturing at the mound like it were a present. “I have a feeling they’re going to ask about relative frequencies, statistical probabilities, Z-scores, you know, the fun stuff.”

Ned flipped through the first few pages on one of the books. Even if Peter had been literally struck by lightning in that moment, he still would have fallen asleep just from looking at that book. No way he was going to last the day running on E. The word ‘statistical probabilities’ in itself was like a warm cup of milk to his brain.

“How are you so sure?” Ned questioned, still looking at the book like it was cursed.

“Captain’s intuition. The force. Sixth sense. Pick your favorite nerd reference.” And with no parting gesture, she walked away towards the adjacent table where Flash & Gwen were studying History. It was comments like that that made Peter’s heart drop to his ankle. With all this double meaning MJ packed behind her words she had to know, but what really drove Peter crazy was HOW she could know. He was so careful, not even his father---- the most powerful man in New York had figured it out. Ned only found out when Peter had gotten a particularly bad black eye that he needed a night at Ned’s house to recover from before he saw Tony. Ned would never tell, and obviously Peter would never be foolish enough to let it slip so either Peter was paranoid or MJ needed to be hired by every spy agency in the world.   

“You know what _my_ sixth sense is telling me?” Ned broke his train of thought.

Peter yawned ungracefully, his mind too slow to guess.

“I’m hungry. If only I had a best friend who could apologize with snacks…”

The teen laughed at Ned’s comment, but stood up all the same. If a bag of Doritos was all it took to get Ned Leeds to lie to Tony Stark again, then he could spare the four quarters it took.

“Cool Ranch!” Ned called to Peter’s retreating form.

“I know what to do.”

Considering he was still very much a high school student, he shouldn’t be focusing on tracking down a super villain. He should be focusing on the match, or his homework, or hell even the impeding dates of Homecoming! But right now as he aimlessly stumbled through the unknown halls of this Brooklyn school, his thoughts could only be traced back to one thought: what was so important? The guys Peter strung up seemed terrified to have been caught and not because of the mask, or the threat of cops but because of what this ‘Vulture’ dude would do to them when he found out what they lost. Peter had even checked the car---- it was really just full of junk. The only thing he’d taken to get a more in depth look was a few marked trinkets and a small black box that looked like an old school pager. But Peter had seen pagers before, Tony programmed one to sing happy birthday in beeps to Doctor Strange on everyday but his birthday----- and the one he found in the Vulture’s trunk didn’t operate normally at all. It didn’t even turn on, and Peter had hit it like… twenty times. It had to be apart of something, maybe even related to that alien arms dealing the king pin was so fond of. With such a peculiarity safely sitting in Peter’s backpack, his thoughts wandered to conspiracy theories rather than equations.

It was in this spacey mindset that he rounded the corner and was immediately met with a brick wall of a human. They collided instantly, and jumped apart just as quick thanks to two pairs of super human reflexes. The other’s hands had even come down on either side of Peter’s arms to steady him unnecessarily, and while he was confused as to the why, he definitely knew the who.

“Steve?!” Peter greeted with surprise.

“Hey, Pete! Surprised?”

In response, Peter just wrapped his arms around the very sturdy torso of Captain America. It had been what----four months since they last saw each other and somehow it still felt like years. His beard had grown in, his smile was wide, and assumedly Peter had grown as now he could look at Steve’s eyes without craning his neck. He looked good----like he’d actually gotten a night of rest and a hearty breakfast. The super solider wore a loose hoodie and a baseball cap that said ‘Brooklyn Nets’ and did absolutely nothing to hide his features or muscles. Peter knows this is supposed to be Steve’s incognito look, but no man with that level BMI could ever be invisible in a crowd.

“What are you doing here, I thought the Avengers were on some mission?” Tony had called when Peter was in the suit last night to let him know he was flying out first thing to Singapore for some Avengers thing and that if he didn’t ‘livestream’ the whole damn Decathalon match, Tony would make Peter singlehandley recreate it later. He left with a thousand apologies as to why he couldn’t make it, and how he’d find an alternate for his absence but America’s Righteous Man was not who Peter thought would sub in. Especially considering recently he’d been deployed on and off so frequently. Peter had tried facetiming Steve once but it would have legitimately been easier to teach the fundamentals of a video call to a dead person. 

“No, I just got back! Tony, Clint, Wanda, Rhodey, and Nat all answered that call, so I figured they could save the world without me just this once. Tony told me you didn’t have your usual fan club, and obviously that’s unacceptable.”

Peter could feel his cheeks flush. Peter had literally seen all of the Avengers in their (surprisingly normal) pajamas-----they were virtually family! But still, every time one of them commented on that fact Peter was left wondering how in the hell he’d gotten so lucky.

When he looked back at Steve, he noticed something peculiar about his stance. He was still staring at Peter as if waiting for the answer to an unasked question, and when Peter did not take the initiative, Cap swung an arm around Peter’s shoulders and they began to walk back the way Peter came. It was meant to be carefree but Peter was very attuned to subtle differences lately.

“So…” Steve started, intentionally not meeting Peter’s questioning gaze.

“So.” Peter attempted humor, but it fell flat. Steve Rogers, while yes, one of Peter’s irrefutable icons was one of those people he’d never felt awkward around. When he first met Steve and he’d stumbled over every letter that he’d tried to speak he felt some discomfort, but ever since then Steve Rogers became more than Captain America. When Ben died it was Steve who held Peter when he’d cried, and when Tony flew through that wormhole in New York it was Steve’s voice that answered his call. Even in his weakest moments he’d always trusted Steve, and it was deeply bothering him to think Cap did not reciprocate the comfort. Rather than push, he let Steve take a beat before continuing.

“I’m sure Tony already told you everything, and if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. But I’m here… if you have any questions. Or concerns.” He side-eyed Peter like he was supposed to know what that meant. Okay, now he was really kicking himself for not taking those ‘spy code’ lessons with Nat more seriously.

What had he and Tony talked about last night? Suit modifications on the reactor, Peter’s weekend stay with May, and whether or not ‘Anthony’ was Scott’s brother or ant minion. All of that, while typical in the Stark house could not be what Steve Rogers was referencing.

“I mean, like I said, he can connect with their minds so after some period of time, I think the line starts to blur. I think Scott really considers ants his ‘brothers’ and then we got into the whole ‘do you have to be human to be family’ and----“

“No, that’s not what I----- wait, is that seriously what you two talked about last night?”

If Peter was being honest, that wasn’t even the weirdest dinner they’ve had. Clearly Steve needed to spend more time with them.

“That and about that new tabloid that says Rhodey & Thor are secretly a couple.”

Tony even debated calling to give an 'exclusive interview' about the love affair. He decided against it only after remembering that the last time he did that, the press responded in kind with 'jealous Tony spills all.'

“So, Tony didn’t mention me?”

Peter took a second to think. He could see where the confusion was considering Tony usually finds someway to reference Steve but last night had been an anomaly. “No… not that I remember. Why?”

Steve sighed, and did that thing where he clenched and unclenched his fingers nervously. “Well, it should’ve been Tony doing this, but as usual he marches to his own beat.”

The teenager knows for a fact that Tony would loathe the use of ‘marching’ in the same sentence as his name. On more than one occasion he’s self described himself as a ‘strutter’.

“Steve, what’s going on?” Was Steve leaving again? For how long, and why? Was it another big Avengers fight like Sokovia where Peter had to watch the news to see if his family was coming home? It sounds petulant, but he just got Steve back! And Peter absolutely loved Tony, that was no question; but it was also blatantly obvious that Tony's edges softened when Steve was off duty. 

“Well, Tony and I were wondering… how you’d feel…”

“yeah?” Steve was never this insecure. Dramatic? You bet your patriotic ass, but this was just an excessive pause.

“------ if I moved in?”

Peter blinked. That's it?

“You’re not already?” Peter had been in Steve’s room multiple times. Sure it was a little bland for Peter’s taste, but it was Steve’s indisputably.

“No, Pete, like… a part of the family.”

“You don’t consider me family? I consider you family, I mean you signed that report card for me that one time Tony was----.”

Steve let out some hybrid of a sigh and a laugh and stopped in his tracks. He placed both his hands on Peter’s shoulders again, and looked directly into his eyes as if he could translate the message that way. Okay, this was sincere moment of silence serious. Of course Peter had to ruin it.

“Oh my god, Steve are you pregnant?”

“I guess it’s kind of like becoming a father…” Steve mused thoughtfully, unfazed by Peter’s joke. “But more like… a _step_ -father.”

“oh.” He replied without the thought truly processing. Once it did he just repeated the word again, but this time with emphasis. _“oh_.” That made sense. Why Tony had kept looking over his shoulder last night like he was expecting someone to jump out of the shadows and join them. Why Steve was so fidgety around the kid he used to be so comfortable with, and most importantly, and seriously Peter how did you miss this, the thick black band around Steve’s finger. Oh.

There were several things he wanted to say. Like “congratulations” or “when is the wedding?” or “you’re the most Dad person to ever dad, so welcome to the family… dad” but apparently nothing crossed his lips. In his ears a slight ringing grew and something like a headache was squeezing his brain but he ignored that as Steve rambled on.

“-----And of course your opinion is priority one, we wouldn’t do anything without you. I mean you’re your dad’s entire life. I didn’t even think Tony was the marriage type until well, yesterday, so------”

Fuck, his head was really pounding now. Ever since he was a kid it had always been Tony & Peter against the world. Steve had always been a constant figure in his life, and definitely Tony's. Before Steve, Tony was the kind of person who swore love was just an unfortunate chemical imbalance. They kept their relationship pretty private, but ever since Sokovia, Tony _had_ been acting differently. He'd never mentioned marriage, but he definitely spoke in 'forevers' when talking about Peter  & Steve. So in reality, a wedding was no giant revelation, aside from the fact that international repressor of feelings Tony Stark finally came to his senses. So what was the problem, brain? 

“----And he’s still your dad, that will never change, I mean he even told me he would use me as a human shield once if ever---“

He hadn’t felt a headache this bad since the bite. Usually it came before he passed out from dehydration or stress or the sorts, but ever since that Oscorp accident a headache meant one thing. _Danger._

 It was in the same moment that he realized what this meant that he understood why.

Cutting off Steve mid-sentence there was a great BOOM and suddenly the wall behind him was shattering into a million pieces. Despite being caught off guard, Steve immediately snapped into Captain Mode and tackled Peter to the ground with a painful thud. The impact might have been heard around the world if Peter’s ears weren’t buzzing.

Debris rained like hail pelting Steve’s back and although Peter squirmed to get out---- to move or to help he was essentially pinned. Peter tried taking steadying breaths, but the air was thick and coated in a layer of soot that Peter could only cough out in harsh bursts. The crunch of gravel signified movement and he counted one, two, three… all the way to six different sets of feet. They were retreating in the opposite way that Steve & Peter had landed, which was lucky for their vulnerable state but unfortunate for the masses. Whoever they were, whether intentional or not were moving directly towards the cafeteria.

 Steve didn’t move from his role as shield until the dust had settled, and even then he gave Peter a hard push in the opposite direction of the danger and commanded “Run! Get out, get help. Call Tony.”

Peter didn’t even have time to reply before Steve double tapped a StarkWatch that deployed a shield. Peter wanted to call out, or stop him until he could re-appear as Spider-Man but Steve Rogers had already disappeared into the fog.

 _Get help_. Peter reiterated mentally, kick-starting into action. Fighting now would be a risky bet---what if he slipped and called Steve ‘dad’, or worse, what if he was unmasked? Even as the questions appeared, Peter knew he would ignore them, so turning the corner and double checking nobody else was around; he slipped the Spider suit on. He did take a beat to let Karen boot up, before shouting “Karen, turn on the voice modifier please!”

“Of course, would you like Neeson or Freeman?”

Peter released an exasperated breath before throwing his webs at the ceiling and vaulting upwards. _Not the time, Karen!_

“Neeson! I could never pull off Freeman.”

He heard it click into place just as he passed the busted wall. Light was filtering in from outside and creating an eerie glow upon the hallway. The black around the edges of the chipped concrete still connected to the wall signified a blast from something powerful enough as a bomb but the florescent blue threw that theory out the window. After having seen those vans filled to the brim with Alien toys, Peter could only assume they had some play in it. If his hunch was right, and it usually was, this had to be the Vulture. Steve was going to need back up.

No one was in sight, but Peter could hear the chaos ensuing from the cafeteria, and with a single web and a strenuous pull, the hallway doors came flying off their hinges allowing Spider-Man to swing into action. The inside was madness.

Adults and teachers tried desperately to usher kids out through the one----now crowded exit while masked dudes with futuristic guns ransacked everything. There were five of them that Peter could immediately see, all dressed in black with stereotypical ski-masks hiding their features. Instinctively, Peter wanted to dive in and save Steve Rogers from this one-on-one brutality with the big-bad, but Spider-Man ignoring the masses for one man would seem a little skeptical. When he had the mask on he couldn't play favorites, only savior.

As soon as he passed the threshold he narrowed in on the scattered thugs, catching one in a surprise strong hold. The man struggled against the webbing, but the shock was enough to let a few of the stragglers run for the exit.

“Boss, we got a Spider situation!” He yelled before Peter’s second web covered his mask where his mouth would be.

“Are you saying I wasn’t invited?” Peter commented, feigning hurt in his weirdly auto tuned voice. Ugh, is that what a Neeson-Parker mash up sounds like? And seriously ‘Spider situation’? At least try and be coy.

Instead of addressing the rest of the goons, Peter decided to work on clearing the area. Students and parents ran wildly for safety and Peter had to mentally remind himself to not take things so personally. MJ was leading a group of smaller kids to the door, and Flash was carrying Gwen who looked like she had a bum leg and Peter Parker was hiding behind a mask. He ignored the feeling of desperation to protect his friends, and instead approached the bigger issue. Spider-Man jumped over to the wall that the mass exodus was happening at and pulled the doors off their hinges. Mid-day heat swept in, and while the crowd of people significantly lessened, there were still those trapped on the other side of the room. Less than ten civilians who had just chosen the wrong table to eat lunch at. Instead of a calm but disappointing public school meal, Captain America and ‘The Vulture’ were battling it out in the center. It was clear that Captain was trying to pull the villain away from the crowd, but he could only deflect so much until one of the blows landed. Peter tried to avoid thinking about that too much.

There was a little girl just on the edge of their action who was eyeing the door warily, and when her attention was diverted was when the fight inched closer. Desperately, Peter threw a web that caught and retrieved her.

“You okay?” Peter asked, her wide shell shocked eyes still processing the events unfolding. She didn't have any visible scrapes on her, but watching alone was enough mental damage. 

“Y-yeah. I’m okay.” She stuttered out before Peter cut the web and she ran for safety. The Vulture slammed Captain America into the wall and Peter winced. Steve was strong but if the wall was even chipped after that, it couldn't have felt good. The silver lining lay in the fact that this distraction gave enough time for the remaining civilians to book it for the exit. And with all the pedestrians gone, Peter could focus on the fight. 

What Peter didn’t understand was the fact that the henchmen weren’t stopping the evacuation, or hell, even the super soldier currently occupying their boss’s attention. Usually in a case like this, to establish leverage they would be targeting the people or addressing the star spangled elephant in the room. Instead, they seemed far more fascinated with average looting as they upturned every backpack and purse in their path. Papers and notebooks littered the ground like sad confetti as they searched for whatever was important enough to cause a public scene. Deciding to ponder on that thought later, Peter went for the minions. 

“You know, it’s like, taboo to go through a woman's purse? It's like thirty years bad luck.” Peter scolded the man currently holding the up-ended purse. He dropped it in surprise and reached for his gun-----but not before Spider-Man’s webs immobilized the use of his hands. His fingers still squirmed, but to no use. "Stay and think about what you've done!" Peter commanded.

One of his friends noticed the commotion and ran towards the scene, determination in his dead eyes--- but with an easy flick of web at his feet the guy stumbled and hit the ground with a crash. 3 down.

The other two were on the far side, but they weren’t alone. They were approaching menacingly on a solo figure, who held onto an old marroon backpack as if it were a lifeline. Peter’s face burned with recognition, and he had to physically suppress the yell bubbling in his throat. Peter is going to McFreaking Lose it.

“Ne-----kid!” Peter corrected himself mid swing. What the hell was Ned thinking? Everyone else had already smartly scattered, even those who had to run from the Cap v. Vulcan showdown and why in his Vulcan mind would he be clutching Peter’s backpack and standing his ground? Least Peter remembers, Ned is still 100% human and thus 100% hurtable.

Ned looked up at the (almost) name drop, and the guy on the right took advantage of the distraction and yanked the bookbag. The one on the left raised his gun as if to knock Ned unconscious, and Peter’s heart jumped to his throat. Acting on instinct alone, he shot a web that hit the gun right when the brunt of the clip touched down on Ned and although it was now tied firmly to the wall, Peter could tell by Ned’s face it hadn’t felt extremely pleasant either. He was knealing on the ground, lips pursed tightly, clearly trying to keep his reaction in check.

Luckily, with the webbed spectacle Peter made of his friend, the burly dude holding his backpack, ignored Ned and gave Peter his full attention. He put up two fists like Spider-Man, a guy with super enhanced abilities to fire long shots, was about to move close enough for hand to hand. Yeah, _okay_ bad guy. His steps were measured as he moved forward, and Peter calculated the shot when the dude threw the backpack to the side.

With his focus on the problem at hand, the fallen backpack was the least of his worries. But as it tumbled to the ground, suddenly the room erupted into an ear-splitting constant screech. Its shrieks wrapped its tendrils around Peter’s brain like it was trying to destroy it, and unconsciously he dropped to the ground in pain. From what he could tell (and aside from the pain that wasn’t much) this sound was affecting everybody in the area. Personally, it was shocking his system and overloading his senses and fucking hell, he swears he starts to see that bright white light. Karen’s comms were going haywire and for a flash of a second, Peter considered ripping his mask off his face for air.

Luckily, when he dropped to the ground he was close enough to just barely reach the bag, and with the last coherent thought he could produce, he slammed a hand down on the middle of the bag. It stopped immediately, and in turn the silence felt just as heavy. Slowly, Peter’s brain started to reboot like old software and the TV static currently occupying his thoughts diminished. Ibuprofen didn't work on Peter since the bite, but he was willing to give it a try after today's headaches. 

The superhero had barely let out a sigh of relief when he realized the eyes he was currently staring down was the enemies. Apparently the sound had affected him the same, and he had fallen to his knees, almost equidistant from the item as Peter was.

They shared the same knowing look and both sprung for the bag simultaneously. Peter threw a desperate web and the guy’s hand descended in the same split-second. If this thing was important enough for the Vulture to make a personal stop to a public area, it had to be dangerous, and obviously detrimental in the wrong hands. 

Never did he think he would care so much about his old beat up backpack.

By some stroke of luck, Peter’s web claimed the bag. The parts of the guys face Peter could see contorted in rage as he pushed up and cocked his fist into a mean right punch. With his hands occupied by the bag, Peter braced himself for the hit (careful not to drop it again), and childishly closed his eyes before the impact.

Which never came.

When he opened his eyes he saw Ned, breathing heavily and holding a linolieum tray over his head with the crumpled body of the bad guy at his feet. Forgetting the situation, Peter had to applaud Ned’s fast thinking.

“nice!” he praised. 

Ned seemed to be still processing his own actions. "Oh man, that was so scary! And cool! But mostly scary... I thought-----"

“Spider-Man!” A voice that sounded eerily like the Vulture’s rang through the hall. He turned to watch as the Vulture approached, only slowed by the efforts of Captain America who was throwing his shield at his wings every time it bounced back. He had a couple of cuts that were still bleeding, and despite his super endurance it was clear the fight was wearing on him and Spider-Man wanted nothing more than to web Steve to safety. He doubted that would be embraced by the super soldier, so he refrained. 

The Vulture was covering the distance between them rapidly, and Peter was torn between running at the action, and finishing his job here. 

Mentally, Peter let out a string of non-Steve approved curse words and decided to clean up his mess first. He webbed the dude to the ground in a messy hurry, not that he cared. He was unresponsive anyway.

 “Ned, get out of here.” Peter whispered urgently. Nothing--- not even this demonic pager was worth Ned being in the middle of this. He already had Steve's safety in the back of his mind, but at least Steve could hold his own. 

“You’ve messed with my operation for the last time!” The Vulture’s voice was close, so close the hairs on Peter’s arms were standing at attention. Peter was still facing Ned, his face (although masked) begging for Ned to listen to him just this once. If he got caught as collateral damage, Peter would never forgive himself. 

Ned was fumbling for an explanation. “They’re after whatever is in your bag, let me take it and----“

“No! Go!” Peter barked. His spider senses nearly electrocuted him and he only had mere moments to evade the sword extending from one of the Vulture’s wings before Ned dove to the side.

“Dude!” Peter released the word exasperatedly, now hanging from the ceiling. “Not cool!” The Vulture responded in kind by throwing a large trash can at the spot where Peter previously resided. He swung away in time, but was still nicked by some of the explosion. A warm spout of blood materialized on his right cheek, and as if mocking him Karen made sure to notify him of the contusion.

"yeah, thanks K." 

He’s seen old High School movies----he knows kids used to get thrown into dumpsters. But never did he think he’d have trash thrown _at_ him. Peter webbed his backpack to the far wall, and diverted all of his planning to keeping the Vultures attention away from that side of the room. He kept his movements short and sporadic so that with every blow the Vulture dealt, he was always a step behind. 

The criminal let out an animalistic snarl behind the mask, and pulled a gun the size of a small child from his belt. Peter's insides churned uncomfortably and he had to physically quell the 'come on man' threatening to break his lips. Spider-Man has really only practiced in the realm of two bit thugs, not alien tech wielding mobsters! Saying he was in over his head was a laughable understatement. 

“Do you know how we deal with insects?” The Vulture cocked his gun to finish the threat. He aimed and fired and Peter jumped frantically to the right to avoid the impact. Where Spider-Man had once resided was now a gaping hole in the ceiling, that could have been Peter. The juxtaposition of blue skies and calm weather outside ridiculed the numerous scrapes Peter had incurred from the blast.

“Actually..." He jumped to the ledge on one of the windows. "Spiders are arachnids.” Peter replied, clutching his stomach that felt oddly like he’d been stabbed. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, it was easy to ignore it, but rational Peter knew he’d have to deal with the repercussions later. He was running out of both time and options, and his stupid brain wouldn't slow enough to form a plan. _Think, Parker, Think!_

 “Spider-Man.” A new voice, belonging to Captain America greeted. He sounded breathless, but continued delivering blow after blow. The call worked in splitting the attackers attention but worked too well as the Vulture delivered a swipe that landed. Steve flew back on impact and broke the table he landed on with enough force to momentarily stun Peter.

 _"Cap!"_ He screamed, saved only by the fact that his auto-tune did its job. 

Apparently this momentary lapse in action was all the villain needed to proceed with his plans, and he extended a great talon that pierced Peter’s book bag like a kebab. As soon as he had it firm, propellers deployed from below his wings to push him up. Peter was still hanging on the ceiling when this sequence of events occurred, but Steve had thankfully gotten up and was close enough to react immediately. Captain America strained himself between holding on with one muscular arm to the Vulture’s wing, and the other anchoring him to the ground. Peter threw a web at the bag as he jumped down, and although he definitely heard the fabric shredding through the sword, it did not leave the possession of the criminal.

“Spider-Man, can you take care of those thrusters?” The super soldier groaned when Spider-Man landed next to him. His face was red and fingers chalk white as he diverted all his strength into making sure the Vulture didn't escape. Peter nodded wordlessly and targeted the left thruster first, attaching his other webs to the connector between the suit and the power. He kept his feet flat on the floor for more leverage, and pulled with as much strength as allotted. His other hand was still extended towards the web on his bag and he sincerely hoped beyond luck, or fate, or fuck it even divine intervention that the least of Steve Roger’s concerns was a backpack that was now littering textbooks with the name ‘Peter Parker’ written inside.

Unconsciously, Peter let out a groan as his extremities pulled in different directions. He could feel his muscles stretching and begging for the pain to stop, but nothing let up. In fact, almost like a cosmic joke, they got worse. 

The Vulture tired of the slow progress and pressed a button that released more power to his jet-pack. Now the heat was starting to infect Peter’s close proximity, and he was finding oxygen a rare commodity. He found himself gasping into the spandex of his mask. 

“Extreme temperatures. You will not last very long.” He heard Karen say in his ears. 

“Yeah, thank you Karen Obvious.”

“Shall I call Tony?”

“What? No!” He groaned again, but pulled tighter on both the lines, his arms screaming in protest. One of them had to give eventually, right?! “come on, come on…”

If Cap noticed Spider-Man was talking to himself, he didn’t comment. 

Thanks to the hole in the ceiling, sirens could be heard from the distance. It took a few closing seconds for the sound to reach the Vulture’s ears, but when it did several things occurred at once.

First, Steve’s fingers slipped from their already precarious spot on the bottom of his suit. Second, Peter’s web pulled the bird’s left thruster clean off and it landed in front of the two superhero’s like a ticking time bomb. And third, and most importantly, the book bag gave one more great tear and all the contents spilled out. Now free from the weights holding him down, the Vulture used his one good propeller to bust up and out of the ceiling, escaping from the scene. For the second time today chunks of dry wall descended upon Peter, only this time they hit him directly on.

Both Captain America and Spider-Man stood in shocked, and exasperated silence. 

The Vulture had escaped, but not with the prize. It was both a win and a loss, and with the fact that Peter’s bones now felt like jelly he’d consider this tie a win. 

"You okay Spider-Man?" Steve was still speaking through harsh breaths, but the question was sincere. Even without knowing who the face was under the mask, Captain America had this unbelievable ability to care. About everyone. Peter had to have been a saint in a previous life to deserve someone like Steve in this one. 

"Fantastic." Peter joked, "How's your day going?" 

Captain responded with a soundless laugh and the shake of a hand to say 'so-so'.

Peter could do it. He could tell Steve, and after the (somewhat) successful fight they'd just been through surely Steve would understand Peter was more than capable. That's literally Steve's origin story, is wanting to be more and doing whatever it took to protect those he loves, so why not Peter too? Peter had adopted the mask with Ben's unjustified death and he'd reduced crime because of it, Steve could relate to that. And besides, Peter really needed someone on his team when he eventually told Tony anyway. Maybe telling Steve wouldn't be the end of the world...

“Woah.” A voice from behind the pair broke his train of thought. 

“Ned? Son, what are you still doing here?” Thank whatever deity was listening that Steve had responded first. With his thoughts so caught up in the 'what if's' of unmasking, he hadn't even thought about who else would see the spectacle. Aside from Ned people were just starting to return to the scene of the crime. 

Ned blinked back to life like he’d just gone through some spiritual journey. Aside from YouTube, Ned had never really seen Peter (or Steve for that matter) in action so while he resented him for staying in the danger zone, he understood it too.

“Are you hurt at all?” Steve asked another question as clearly Ned was too shell shocked to answer the first one.

Seeing that Steve was preoccupied, Spider-Man took this time to collect the little black box that had started this whole mess. What the hell was so important the Vulture would attack a school? And more importantly, how had he known where it was? Did the Vulture know Peter? That was the danger of un-masking, it suddenly opened up the possibility of bystander casualties. If Peter un-masked, even to a select few people, it could get out and people like Ned, May, Tony, and Steve would be put at risk. He couldn't do that to them, not now. 

He pocketed the device, and started to gather all the henchmen he had previously webbed up. The police always appreciated it when they just had one big web to cut through rather than five individual. It’s not like Spider-Man would stick around long enough to chat anyway.  

“N-no, I’m fine. Thank you, Mr. Steve. Captain Steve. Mr. Rogers.”

Peter suppressed a masked grin at that---- he would give Ned so much shit later.

“Good.” Steve replied with relief. His attention diverted to the star-struck crowd, but his eyes continued to roam. “You haven’t seen Peter have you? I saw him when that bird guy first arrived but my instincts tell me he didn’t follow directions and run to safety.”

Peter froze a little as he tied up the fourth goon to the rest of the squad. He slowly started inching to the door. Shit. He hadn’t really thought about this part.

“Uh….” Ned started, giving a wild deer-in-the-headlights look. Luckily, his eyes didn’t shift directly towards Spider-Man but they were definitely searching for an excuse in the air. _Come on Ned!_ You’re a genius, you can surely come up with some lie to placate Steve Rogers!

“----He was helping people outside.” A new voice answered, emerging from the threshold to the exit. Several people were filtering in now to see the aftermath, pulling out phones to record and chattering in low voices. She specifically was picking up small things by the door and seemed far too uninterested for having just survived an attack.

“I think I saw him picking up some dude who fell.” MJ finished. She gave a pointed look to Ned who, behind Captain’s back gave her a relived look. Steve bought it, said “thanks” and then gave Spider-Man one last look. “Thanks Spider-Man. Stay in touch.”

“Yeah, of course.” Peter waved lamely.

Steve retreated through the double doors to the outside at that, and Peter extended both arms towards Ned in one big universal sign language for ‘what the hell’ before running through the hallway instead. That had been way too close for comfort.

He ran into a classroom, wiggled out as fast as time would allot and ran back to the court yard through the back way. The amount of people was thick here as friends, family and parents all comforted each other and tended to any wounds. Luckily most everyone (dammit Ned) had gotten out before things got ugly but a select few people had scrapped knees or twisted ankles from the rush. One person hanging at the perimeter of the crowd was still on the ground rubbing a bruised ankle as another offered a hand to help him up. Being nearby, Peter extended a hand as well and they had the nameless person up in seconds and being walked off by who Peter assumed was his parents. He watched them go, momentarily forgetting he was out here for a reason until he heard the frantic “Peter!” from inside the thicket of people.

“Steve!” He responded, feigning relief as if seeing him for the first time since the hallway. His relief was real though, as for obvious reasons, Spider-Man could not embrace Captain America after such a brawl. 

They hugged momentarily before Steve pushed off to look at Peter like a doctor might. “Are you hurt? What happened?” He moved Peter’s face to the side, and only then did Peter realize he was probably bleeding from that swipe the Vulture got in. He turned away from the grasp and stumbled through an excuse.

“I uh---- there was so many people and I tripped, and hit… my face. But I’m fine, it’s nothing that won’t heal.” _Faster than you know_ , he left unsaid. 

Steve nodded along and merely said “Well I’m glad you’re okay.” So sincerely Peter felt like exposing all his secrets right then and there. With the look shimmering in Steve’s eyes of such worry & love, Peter was reminded with lucidity that they were still human. Even though Captain America had just punched an international criminal in the face, he still felt hurt that Peter had not reacted positively before. If things weren't so serious, it might be laughable that Steve Rogers worried about the opinion of Peter Parker. 

“And look, I’m sorry for springing all that news on you. Too much, too fast I get it, and if you want Tony and I to slow things down, I get that too, just say the word and we…”

Peter cut him off before he would get to the critical point of rambling. Somehow all that chaos had given him clarity. Steve was already family, and anybody who would legally sign a document that binds them to protect his dad is someone Peter can get behind. His Spider-Man life may be absolute, chaotic turmoil, but at least his life as Peter Parker was pretty great.

His voice didn’t waver when he said “Welcome to the family, _dad_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the last line cliche? am I going to leave it anyway bc peter calling steve 'dad' is my power source in this life?? you bet ya ass. I honestly have not read or written anything Steve/Tony but Steve/Tony as dads, more specifically PETER'S dads are what dreams are made of. I don't have a beta so hmu if there's any obvious mistakes or inconsistencies I missed. (Also if you're interested in reading the unedited first draft of a chapter early, let me know if you'd like to beta!) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!


	2. Bruce Banner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR shout out to my lovely beta steelmagnolia247 who makes me sound actually coherent

Just to clarify: he has _never_ done this before. For fucks sake, he hasn’t even thought about it before. If he were to be asked whether or not he would be going through with this particular plan even a week ago he would have scoffed indignantly and praised himself to at least be of a higher intellect than that.

But desperate times, right? The compound was the best, and frankly only super enhanced ‘hospital’ in the world. It’s not like he could stumble into St. Mary’s ER on 3rd and explain that they needed to stitch him up before his genetically modified skin started healing on its own.

And besides, most of the Avengers---- Tony included, were deployed. So the worst that happens is FRIDAY learns more than he’d like, and he’d already programmed her to keep a secret.

So that is how he rationalizes climbing into his bedroom window at the tower in full Spider-Man suit. He’d even called Tony’s cell and faked a science question just to make sure his father was actually in Singapore. He’d asked FRIDAY if Steve was home, or if Nat or Clint decided to make a surprise visit and everything was coming up negative. So yeah, he was taking a gamble that nothing would immediately bring them home, but considering Peter could almost see his innards through the gash in his side---it was a bet he was willing to take.

Spider-Man was able to slip in without too much trouble considering he’d planned for the impossible scenario of this very moment. His bed was positioned just so he could tumble onto it, and remembering he was alone in this tower he let himself groan through the pain dramatically. Was it his fault he’d tried to flip around the knife rather than disarm immediately? Yes. Was he going to survive it? Sure. Was he going to be dramatic as hell and plan out his funeral anyway? You bet.

He worked up the nerve to stand, clutching his side and ignoring the acid reflux he felt build up in his throat when his hands coated in his own blood. He was a superhero! He kicks ass and takes names, and he’s already kicked some ass. Blood should not be fazing him the way it was! But whether it was the odd discoloring on his skin around the contusion, or the way he just knew it wasn’t healing right, was making him just a bit light headed. The large, full body mirror on the back of his door just confirmed that his paling skin was a coming sign of the rapture. He was so fucked.

“Welcome home, Peter.”

“yeah, yeah.” Peter groaned at FRIDAY. “this stays between us, okay? Parker override.”

Inside the mask, Karen was showing him his own vitals, the bars fluctuating between ‘EXTREME DANGER’ and ‘EMERGENCY’. His heart beat was beating so rapidly he probably could have counted the beats just by the number of times it pounded against his chest, and the approximate time until Peter passed out was proudly displayed center screen. It gave him a generous ten minutes. So despite the unfortunate strain of air through spandex, he kept the mask on, slowly making his way to the labs. What he really needed were stitches, but with his rapid healing he needed those ones Tony had made specifically for someone of Steve’s super-DNA.

“Karen, please write in my will that I want ‘mmmm whatcha say’ to play at my funeral. Ned will know what it means.”

Karen pinged in agreement, and Peter decided that if he survived this (and that was a big if) that he would program the sarcasm right out of her motherboard. She knew he was kidding, and still, he could hear the faint sounds of Jason Derulo in his ears. At least she’d stopped asking to dial Tony.

He arrived at the glass door of the 30th floor lab just as he started getting spots in his vision. He punched in the general access code sloppily, and when the door opened his strength gave out and he fell to his knees. He definitely hit something on his way down that clattered and toppled to the floor with a bang, but honestly that was the least of his concerns. Steve and Bucky would surely be back in a couple of hours and finding an unconscious Spider-Man in their living room might sound some alarms. All he needed was something to stop the bleeding and maybe like… twenty minutes of sleep. This particular patch of flooring was quite comfortable, maybe he would apply pressure later…

“Hello?” A voice called from deep in the labs, snapping Peter’s attention at full alert. In that moment Peter literally prayed for death. He was bleeding out on the floor of his father’s workspace, and hiding the biggest secret since Hannah Montana, so yeah if the grim reaper pointed his scythe at Peter’s chest he probably wouldn’t fight it too much.

“Karen, voice modifier.” Spider-Man whispered quietly.

“You got it.” It clicked into place just as Peter saw a pair of feet hustle into view. They were clean cut lab technician sneakers, so that ruled out Tony’s ‘working converse’.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Peter asked casually, as if he wasn’t lying face down in the middle of a lab he shouldn’t be in. The person immediately rushed to his side, tenderly pushing him up to rest his back against the counter. While the movement was strenuous, the angle his body was now at was definitely less excruciating. When he didn’t feel like passing out anymore, he focused on the face now staring down his mask and holding his stomach tightly.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

Bruce Banner. In medical terms, this was fantastic news. None of his PhDs were medical but surely he’s stitched a stab or two being friends with Tony. Peter’s plan to self-stitch was flawed at best considering the one time he’d tried sewing he couldn’t even thread the needle. Bruce was experienced enough to not just say “that’s rough, don’t die”, but to actually offer some helpful information. Like why his gash had a heartbeat.  

However in secret life terms, this was shit. Bruce was one of Tony’s best, and ----sorry dad---but _only_ friends. So if he saw the face behind the mask, the wrath of Tony would descend upon an unsuspecting Avengers tower.

“Would you believe I tripped?” Peter asked, voice thankfully warped by Karen’s generous contributions.

Bruce began the inspection without missing a beat. “Into a knife? Sure, I believe it.”

Involuntarily, Peter laughed and the motion nearly split his body in two. The wound was on his bottom right side, just above his hip and below his rib cage but it felt like it was snaking up his body, shocking all of his nerves simultaneously. He could feel it every which way he moved, and with the sweat accumulating all over his form he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of this spandex prison.

Bruce put his hands on either side of the cut and while surely the motion was meant to be tender, it felt like he was being stabbed all over again.

“Ouch!” a hiss escaped through his teeth and he couldn’t help but wonder whether death was preferable. I mean, it was only a matter of time until Bruce ripped the mask from his head, told Tony, and then Tony killed him so really, what was the problem in speeding up the process? At least Tony’s would be quick what with the rage consuming him. This was just torture, plain and simple.

“Sorry… sorry.” Bruce apologized, regardless of the fact he literally had nothing to apologize for. “I’m going to help you up, alright? I can work better on the table.” Peter nodded dumbly in response and allowed for the doctor to slip an arm under his shoulders and hoist him up. In an effort to keep his groans down to a minimum, Peter bit down on his lip so hard he started to taste copper.

The walk to the medical table was a mere ten feet, maximum, but with his steps miscalculated and sloppy it felt like it took years to get there. Bruce was even shouldering most of the weight, and still Peter felt the urge to collapse on spot every step. Eventually they reached the platform, and Peter swears he saw the bright white light when he had to fold to get on the table.

“This thing got infected fast. What were you hit with?” Bruce’s glasses fell to the bottom of his nose as he worked on the cut. Peter blinked back the little black spots in his vision and noticed that the slashed bits of Peter’s suit were clamped apart to keep Bruce’s work space free but other than that, Bruce did not tamper with the suit. His heart was beating rapidly at the prospect of being exposed, and the added pressure of knowing treating an infection would not be the simple stitches he’d hoped for. He gripped the sides of the table so hard they started to warp.

“Street muggers. I’m assuming their knives are about as clean as a Wendy’s bathroom toilet brush.” Peter answered mindlessly. Talking was definitely helping distract from the fact that Bruce was wiping down Peter’s cut---a move that inevitably preceded sterilizing the wound.

“And they attacked you? Doesn’t seem like such a good idea to attack a vigilante.”

Peter shook his head, trying and failing to look anywhere but at Doctor Banner’s hands. “No, I wasn’t the target I just stepped in when-----“ Peter hissed and bit back a scream. The pain was reaching unbearable levels. Instead a breathless gasp, like he’d just been punched in the stomach escaped as he blinked back tears. He definitely seized up, but Bruce’s surprisingly strong hands held him down.

“Keep going.” He instructed, continuing to clean the wound as if Peter hadn’t just left his physical form at the electric-like shock.

“when…when….” Where was he before he saw the grim reaper? Oh yeah… “When I picked it up on my rounds. Some girl had chosen the wrong alley to walk along at night and I wanted to help. I didn’t realize until I was hit that they had back up. The girl’s okay though. A little shaken, but okay.”

Bruce hmmm at that, clearly focusing. The constant prick of pain was present, but significantly lessened then when Peter contemplated death on the floor. He could still feel nausea prodding at his innards like an uninvited houseguest but Peter tried the ‘talking’ tactic instead of the throwing up while still in mask route.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Until this very moment Peter had sincerely thought that Bruce & Thor were still ‘on leave’. He hadn’t seen him in almost a year, so asking whether Bruce was at the compound had evaded Peter’s notice previously.

Banner’s eyebrow quipped, and he spared a quick glance to look at Spider-Man when he said “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Right. It’s Peter Parker who has unlimited access to the tower, not the friendly neighborhood spider-man. Luckily, he remembers quick the numbers Tony gave to people like Daredevil, The Wasp, and yes, Spider-Man should they ever need a place to lay low and lick their wounds. It wasn’t unrestricted access by any means but it did give him an excuse as to how he broke into a professionally secured building.

“Iron Man gave us some limited access code should we ever find ourselves suddenly… stabbed. Thought he’d be here though, where is everyone?” Peter knew exactly where they were, but he’d play dumb if that saved him some critical stealth points. Besides, Bruce had finally finished torturing Peter with antibiotics and catching his breath between responses seemed as good a plan as any.

Bruce started to gather the more intensive tools as he spoke and Peter’s stomach did a flip. “Off saving the world. Apparently Tony---- Iron Man’s former business partner Justin Hammer tried to kill him and the team answered the call immediately.”

Peter jerked up at that, “Someone tried to kill him?” What the hell, dad? First he proposes and doesn’t tell Peter shit, and then he almost dies and again neglects to tell him shit. This is why Peter keeps his mask firmly on because if Tony doesn’t think he can handle this, then he’d never trust him to swing into battle. He’s not asking for the codes to the Manhattan project here, just to get a call every now and then that his dad experiences a major life event.

“Yeah, if you knew him you’d understand.” Bruce joked. If it were anybody else, Peter might have been offended, but people like Bruce and Rhodey got exclusive ‘make fun of Tony’ privileges after all the shit they’d gone through. And considering Peter was very much in the dark about the happenings of Tony Stark, maybe he did too.

“Seems like I don’t know him well enough…” Peter murmured, more so to himself than Bruce. Other than one very obvious exception, Peter thought they didn’t keep secrets from each other.

“You can relax you know.” Bruce said, referencing Peter’s iron grip on the table. Now that the wound was cleaned, Bruce was holding the necessary requirements for stitches, but the rigidity of Peter’s form must have been enough of an inconvenience for Bruce to mention it. Peter released his hands, but the tension in his stomach was still packed intensely like a Molotov cocktail waiting to explode.

“What’s got you so stressed? Is it me? I promise I haven’t… gone green in years.”

Peter was yet again thankful for the mask as it hid his admittedly extreme reaction. How could Bruce, the man currently saving his life, think Peter was afraid of him? Bruce, without question was the one Avenger who had never elicited fear from Peter. He’d even brought Peter back a souvenir (that wasn’t a beer stein, @thor) from his last trip to Asgard. The Hulk, Peter couldn’t vouch for, but Bruce Banner was the one person in this world who truly meant well in everything he did.

“No! No, it’s not you. Thank you, by the way, for your help. I just… there’s a lot going on.” Peter finished lamely. Like, I’m lying to you and everybody I love, but hey what’s new with you?

Bruce moved closer towards Peter’s torso, needle in hand. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Thanks to his previous experience with the sterilization he knew that talking through the pain was the best course of action, but did he really trust himself not to slip and reveal everything? I mean once Peter starts talking it gets increasingly difficult to filter his words. With the first poke of the needle on tender skin, he decided fuck it, anything was better than stewing.

“I----I’ve got this secret. That I can’t tell anyone because it would change everything and hurt a lot of people. And I can’t… stop the secret because _more_ people would get hurt that way. And it’s not like its bad or anything, but… It just feels like no matter what I do, I’m always making the wrong choice.”

He hadn’t really said it out loud until then. Huh. So that’s what that feels like.

“I see.” Bruce said calmly. “Have you thought about telling just one person? That way you might share some of the burden, not carry such a heavy weight on yourself?”

Peter sighed. Yes, he had thought of that and fuck would he love to. But if he told anyone in his immediate family, they’d all feel that moral obligation to tell Tony and then Peter’s spider suit would be thrown into the nearest entrance to Tartarus. Ned was the only one unbiased enough to know, and Ned couldn’t relate to the superhero dilemma at all.

“I’ve… thought about it. But my family is pretty powerful. I tell one person, and the whole family knows and then it’s not a secret anymore.”

“And does it have to be a secret?”

If it were anybody else but Bruce asking, Peter would have scoffed. But Bruce meant it so sincerely that Peter actually questioned it. What if he followed in his father’s footsteps and with no fear or trepidation said “I am Spider-Man” to the world? Sure life at school would change and people would treat him different, but was it really worse than this? This constant state of panic that he might be outed in a way that topples the tower his life was built on? And it has been two years since the bite. Not to mention, a year since he’d started frequenting Avengers meetings, so if he told everybody now… they’d never trust him again. Especially in the middle of this wedding season with Steve just joining the family, he couldn’t weigh them down, not when they were so happy. It may not be perfect, but things are better the way they are. He had his chance to come clean the day after Oscorp & he’d rejected it, so it was time to lay in his own badly made bed.

“I think so.” Peter mused sadly, wincing slightly at the prick of pain that came from the stitches Peter had genuinely forgotten were being threaded through him.

“Sorry.” Bruce apologized again. His stitches were far from over, but as the pain subsided so did Peter’s will to stay awake. The adrenaline must be wearing off, and all the stamina used from stressing about imminent death made his body feel weak. After all the chaos of the day, somehow getting stitched up was the calmest he’s been in a while.

 “I’m assuming this ‘secret’ refers to…” Bruce gestured vaguely at Peter, clearly referencing the spider suit.

“Yeah.” Peter yawned simply.  

Bruce would understand, right? And with how calm and collected he was now, surely Bruce would keep Peter’s secret, right? If it was a safety thing he could call Bruce on patrol, and if it was a Tony thing… well, let’s hope it’s not a Tony thing. He decided to test the waters.

“What about you? If you had the chance to keep your other life a secret… where no one knows what you’re capable of, and you separate one major part of your life from the other, would you? Even if it means lying to the people that trust you wholeheartedly?”

“Without question.” Bruce answered immediately.

Before Peter can prod further, Bruce cuts the excess string and wipes down Peter’s now closed wound once more. The smallest remnants of a smile dotted his lips and Peter could tell he was proud of his work. And for what it’s worth, Peter is proud of it too. “All patched up.” He says, returning to his tray and picking up the gauze.

“Thank you, Dr. Banner.” Peter says sincerely. Whether he’s referencing the advice or the medical attention he’s not sure, but he is grateful for both. Knowing he’s worn out his welcome, he moves to get up before the stitches in his side scream in protest.

“woah woah woah.” Bruce says, gently guiding Peter’s head back down when it swims with black spots again. “I may have stitched you up, but you’re not done yet. I want to run a hemolysis test, that infection isn’t over yet.”

When Peter found himself still lying on the cool metal, he couldn’t help but think how unnaturally comfortable this was. Well if he was going to stay here, he might as well close his eyes for five minutes...   

                                                                -------------------------------------------

“Bruce, you’re not even curious? You saved his life, I’m sure that warrants you knowing whose life it is you saved.”

“No, Rhodes. I said I wouldn’t, and I don’t plan on breaking that.”

“He’s got access to the tower, where we all live. Not to mention, he knows all of our real names… Don’t you think we deserve to know who is beneath the mask?”

“He had several chances when he was breathing through a panic attack to take the mask off, but clearly it’s important. I’m not going to betray that. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“You’re not a real doctor.”

“And we’re not the government.”

When Peter wakes up, the lights have dimmed and only the smallest sounds of movement can be heard. There’s the gentle tapping on glass every few seconds, a steady beeping to his right, and the sure sound of heartbeats in the distance. He recognizes the voices, but considering his groggy mind has only just started working, he doesn’t register them at first.

 _Fuck, he fell asleep_. Fuck he fell asleep in front of Bruce! His hands fly to his face in a desperate attempt to prove he was still masked and the heart attack that was brimming just over the horizon ceases. It’s still there. On the inside, the screen is blank and it smells like someone died in it, but thanks to whatever deity was watching, it’s still there.

That beeping noise he’d noticed earlier started going a little crazy and suddenly Peter was no longer alone.

“You’re up!” It was Bruce who spoke first, and with genuine happiness dotting his face as he examines whatever was on the monitor next to Peter’s bedside. Behind Bruce stood Rhodey, and it was literally the first time Peter had ever seen him with a scowl directed at him. He’s seen it multiple times directed at Steve, or Sam, or most often Tony, but Rhodey had been his uncle since before the Avengers even assembled. He’d only ever addressed him with love.

Now he was a stranger. A stranger who didn’t seem to love the idea of an unidentified dude in spandex chilling on his work station.

“Welcome back, Spider-Man. Seems like you took quite a beating.” Rhodes greeted dryly.

“Yeah, you should see the other guy.” His voice is unmodified, but the scratchiness from dehydration, and the deep rumble of just having arisen masked his usual tone authentically. Neither Bruce nor Rhodes seemed to notice the pitch change.

Regardless of that fact Peter wanted to make a break for it as soon as possible. If Rhodes was here then that theoretically meant that all the Avengers were coming back from Singapore---- namely Tony. And while puffing out his chest and mimicking Thor’s tenor might fool his uncles, it would do nothing but alert his dad.

“Thank you again, Dr. Banner, but I really have to get going. Colonel Rhodes.” He nodded to each man respectively, and swung his legs off the table. They felt like jelly as they landed but his need to reach the outside world steadied him. He had just reached the door when Bruce spoke again.

“Hey, you know there’s a wedding coming up.” There was a miniscule chance that Banner was talking to Rhodes, but on that hope alone Peter turned. Considering Rhodes’ eyes were trained on Bruce in a ‘what the hell’ face, it became obvious that the sentence was meant for him.

“Tony & Steve, Iron Man & Captain America.” Bruce elaborated, clearly ignoring Rhodes’ signs to stop talking. And as much as he loved Bruce, he was honestly routing for Team Rhodes right now because what the hell? It’s not like Peter could walk in with a suit, tie, and spider mask to the biggest wedding of the century. What Bruce was really asking was if Peter would unmask in an arena that big, and in his mind, it was probably a gesture of good faith. “I’m sure they’d appreciate it if you came.”

Rhodes did not share the same sentiment. “It’s all very new, they don’t really have a guest list yet, Bruce…”

Yeah, new enough that Tony still hasn’t told Peter, he thought sourly.

“I’m a groomsmen, I figure I can add a +1.”

If Peter wasn’t confused by Bruce’s words before, he was definitely starting to think he was still asleep now. Groomsmen? Tony had already figured out his _wedding party_ before telling Peter anything? Steve and Bruce were Peter’s main source of information now, and most of that was only told to the mask! Tony may have outed himself about being Iron Man, but apparently he keeps more secrets under the table.

“I uh… thanks. Can I get back to you on that?” Technically speaking, even Peter Parker wasn’t formally invited to the wedding yet. So yeah, he’d mark Spider-Man down as a hard maybe.

“Sure thing.” Bruce responded, much to the disapproving side-eye of the Iron Patriot. Bruce elected to ignore this and waved Peter goodbye. “Don’t strain yourself, Spider-Man. Those stitches aren’t knife proof.”

Peter only nodded in response, and left, still lost in his personal head space of what the hell was going on with Tony. Obviously with this whole reemergence of Justin Hammer, and proposing to his boyfriend business, he’s got a lot going on but they’d never been so out of sync his whole life. That was their whole thing---- that Peter Parker was basically Tony 2.0!

Deciding he’d like to be just Peter Parker now, Spider-Man exited the tower calmly. He walked the bustling streets of New York until he found a deserted alleyway, rid himself of the now shredded Spider-Man suit, and spent a good hour or so killing time before heading back to the tower.

‘Have you thought about telling just one person?’ the phrase played like an ominous loop in his mind as the elevator rose. He’d been playing the solo game for so long he’d almost forgot what it felt like to be in a team, but now that he dwelled on it… he missed it. The Avengers had his back, but only as casual friends, not like the family Peter so cherished. What if he trusted someone?

The only question now was who.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen I just watched Iron Man 3 again and I want to say.... from the bottom of my heart.... tony stark deserves better. I know this fic aint gonna give it to him until (maybe) the end but still, my point stands. Also I tried to mention Thor as much as possible in my Bruce chapter bc we all know thorbruce is the most unproblematic of all superhusband pairings. ANYWAY word count is super low on this one but I hope you enjoyed!!!


	3. Black Widow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG shoutout to my lovely betas I__WIll__Not__Be__Afraid and Steelmagnolia247 for making me literate

Ever since his little dance with the sharp end of a short knife he’d been lying low as Spider-Man. Meeting Captain America, Bruce Banner, and War Machine in one week had to be a sign from the fates that Peter needed to chill for a second. Because of this, he stuck to his usual dark alleyways and two-bit thugs. He tried not to think, or follow the Vulture too closely, and spent the next week or so playing the intended role of the ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man’. Tony was still away dealing with whatever crisis they were in now, and while they talked and texted frequently on the phone, neither brought up the obvious contingency. Peter wanted Tony to choose his moment, and apparently Tony was waiting until the day of the ceremony to say “Oh btw, you can come too if you want.”

Thus far, He’d been doing pretty good with flying under the radar. But when fate hands you a silver platter and says ‘take it’, who is Peter to slam the door?

On his perch in lower Queens he noticed three figures exiting a van with blacked out windows. The two burly men on either side were holding a smaller figure between them. Their arms were pinned behind their back, and a black bag prevented Peter from seeing any distinguishing features. He may not be the most experienced vigilante out there, but he’s fairly sure this isn’t the premise to a surprise party. He knows a kidnapping when he sees one.

He makes sure to be extra stealthy as he webs his way across the alley. On top of the building lay a ceiling of windows, one of which was open just far enough for a thin teenager to slip through. Even without his super-hearing the main dude’s voice could be heard through titanium. Obviously he was a little upset to have been played.

“Bet you thought you were sly? That you could fool us? You’re not as charming as you think you are, the boss knows a rat when he smells one.” Peter situated himself on the far wall, concealed by the shadows while still in full view of the body guards. Their faces were hard set and unflinching as they berated the person currently tied to the chair in the middle of the warehouse. The bag had been pulled off her head, but Peter was only able to see her back and shoulder length black hair. For someone currently at the mercy of a man with the stability of a jenga tower, she didn’t quiver at his threats.

When Peter first started, he probably would have jumped in now. Wanting to save the woman immediately is a gut reaction but what if these guys had back up? After experiencing two years of hindsight that said wait until you know what they’re capable of, he stayed hidden to mentally map out his plan.

“How did you know about the shipment?” The one on the right that looks like a great value Vin Diesel spoke, approaching the woman. He tilted her chair back so far that her feet no longer reached the ground and his face was mere inches from hers. Peter itched to act, but the woman responded calmly.

“What supplier? The Vulture does not make his own weapons?” Her accent was thick and sounded vaguely German, but there was no mistaking the words ‘The Vulture’ in any dialect. He wanted to know this answer too— how the hell did a non-SHIELD operative have access to alien tech? He could understand a gun or two slipping notice, but it seemed like this Vulture had an unlimited access to outer space and all its luxuries.

“Do not play dumb.”

“Just trying to get to your IQ level.” The man raised a hand as if to slap her before his friend held him back.

“You know what the boss wants.” His friend warned, despite the fact that the attacker clearly didn’t care.

“Don’t test me.” He pointed a finger at her face, but turned around after to converge with the other lackey. Between the pair was an old silver table tray that house a wide array of knives far too lethal to be medical.

Peter moved ever so slightly to the farther corner for a better look. The movement made no recognizable sound, but the lady’s attention snapped to his corner regardless. Her eyes met his and Peter nearly lost his suction grip to the fall.

Alright, punk’d. The cameras can come out now!

This was starting to feel like a local grocery store, he was running into so many people he was trying to avoid.

He slunk back deeper in the shadows, but her eyes were trained on him. She shook her head so slightly her hair didn’t even move but the message was clear. Do not engage. She gave him another look but this one slightly farther than where he was situated that if perceived correctly meant ‘go that way.’ Peter was about to silently but forcefully argue that he’d rather stay here as defense, but she had already turned her attention back to the kidnapping at hand when the guy had decided which knife he liked best.

His eyes flicked over her hungrily, and although Agent Natasha Romanov didn’t flinch Peter felt the implication. He needed a plan, and he needed one now. If he were sure it was just the two guys with no one on call, he would have no problem jumping in and kicking some criminal ass, but people like this always multiplied when the action starts. As useful as he had been, Peter really wasn’t eager to almost die on Dr. Banner’s med-bay table again. Not to mention, Natasha had told him to check out the rest of the warehouse. And if Natasha’s month long cold shoulder towards Bucky after he went left instead of right when she told him to was indicative of anything— it was to respect her call.

Peter slipped down to where the wall met the floor and touched down lightly. The captor’s tenor and Natasha’s steely voice could still be heard, but were not particularly in focus. To his right a pile of wood boxes were stacked from floor to ceiling with only one entry or exit way between them. Peter slips through the opening, staying close to the ground, and only righted himself when he knows hes out of direct eye line.

Peter’s first impression was that this was where Jake Peralta lived before he married Amy Santiago. The room was a mess—not a single surface area was not covered by a deep sea of paper, fast food wrappings, or the occasional empty alcohol bottle. Having reasonable intuition, it became clear that this was not the operations headquarters. There were no security guards, or cameras, or even order to this pig sty that could harbor the masses Peter knew The Vulture had. However, this had to be some kind of low level base.

The section Peter had managed to navigate through consisted of five desks, all with papers haphazardly strewn about, a few lamps with no bulbs, and a large seven foot cork board that covered the east wall. It looked like an office space, but perhaps for a part time detective, part time serial killer. The cork board wall was decorated in a messy array of pictures, newspaper clippings, and red string connecting one bad handwriting post to the other. Names like ‘Captain America’ or ‘Hawkeye’, and yes, even ‘Spider-Man’ graced the wall, as clearly their organization dealt primarily in the super-villain realm of morality. All the names Peter recognized as various members of his family had one commonality—a thick red line that traced all the way up to the top of the board where two words shone like beacons.

TONY STARK.

Seeing his father’s name so prominent, Peter decided to start his investigation where it mattered. There was a full list of details below his Iron Man picture—– age, residence, family members, average number of security on him at any point, and his whereabouts going as far back as six months. Obviously this operation was still in use as ‘SINGAPORE’ was circled in red, along with photos of him, Clint, and Wanda that were only a few days old, at most.

“What the hell.” He whispered. He traced the line connecting Spider-Man to Tony Stark (there were only conspiracies about Spider-Man actually being a StarkBot) and decided to dive further into this conspiracy. He drifted towards the tables in search of some kind of clarity. Sure, Tony Stark was famous and rich and all those things that meant his forehead literally read ‘kidnap me for ransom’, but this just was excessive. The Vulture was an arms dealer, and Tony had long since left the game of war profiteering. What the hell did they want from him now?

It took some shuffling through the mess on the desk to get to stuff Peter could understand. Most of the files pertained to the alien tech currently cycling through New York’s underground and while yes, Peter was smart, no, he did not understand the physics of other-worldly artillery. A lot of it was crossed out or scribbled over, but some were just barely decipherable for Peter to know they were trying and failing to find something.

It was only when he got to a section of papers titled ‘ENERGY SOURCE’ that he saw Tony’s name again. Behind a picture of his arc reactor were several formulas, some painfully obvious like displacement or power equations, and others with symbols Peter didn’t even believe to be real. It filled up pages and pages worth of the file and as much as he didn’t want to understand it, the meaning on the last page was clear. The arc reactor was powerful enough to charge these guns.

His mind slipped into instant panic mode™. The reactor kept Tony alive, if these people wanted it, they were going to have to kill the keeper. It’s not like a USB drive that you can take the chance of pulling it out without ejecting and the worst thing that happens is you lose a couple of files— it was quite literally the life support Tony had been damned to since Afghanistan. Their goal wasn’t market domination but unlimited power—and Tony was the only one capable of that.

He kept rummaging, mostly looking through the books referencing his family, himself, or equations that undoubtedly related to the reactor. He was piling things up into a ‘keep’ pile that he would take as soon as Nat was out and throwing the rest on the floor. Surely Bruce & Tony could decode the message, and if not then maybe they’d ship it off to Wakanda. He didn’t even care that they’d probably question why Spider-Man bothered with information that barely pertained to him, but that was a small price to pay for giving his dad a head start.

His focus returned when the kidnapping when a voice rose to an octave just below a yell. Ignoring Natasha’s previous call to get lost he exited the office and returned to his spectators spot in the shadows.

“We know you’re one of Hammer’s agents. Twist your words however you like sweetheart, you know we’ve got you pinned.” Hammer… that’s the same name Bruce had referenced in Tony’s attempted murder. What the hell did Hammer have to do with the Vulture, aside from the fact that each of them were trying to kill their respective Stark’s?

“Justin Hammer? I thought you worked for the Vulture?” Now that he knew their ultimate plan, he was growing more and more restless with sitting still. Spider-Man was firmly non-violent but even Peter reached his morality limits sometimes.

“You’re a horrible liar.” He sneered. He was still too close to Nat for comfort, and Peter’s initial reaction to jump forward was harnessed only by rational. If she were truly in danger, she’d have called for him.

He bent forward, this time dragging the knife lightly across her cheek. She had the decency to feign fear, but not enough to make her squirm. Maybe she didn’t want to compromise him, maybe she was waiting for him to take the initiative, or set off some geniusly crafted plan, but how much did she trust Spider-Man? When exactly was Peter’s cue?

“Tell us where Hammer’s supply is, and we’ll consider letting you go with most of your fingers.”

“You really know how to make a girl an offer.”

“Listen bitch!” The knife was at her throat now. “Hammer promised us a new supply and we’re more than happy to trade your dead body for his guns. Tell us where the supply is, and maybe we won’t shoot that pretty mouth right off your face.” He had one hand gripping either side of her face, and a knife that was drawing blood from her neck. Peter decided to damn Natasha’s rules and move now. He had just shot a web at the opposite ceiling when she responded, sans accent “So Hammer is the supplier.”

She head butted the guy so hard Peter swore he could hear his nose break all the way from the corner, and her black wig flew off with the motion. She used her legs to swipe at the guy’s feet until he crashed to the ground and then flipped backwards so that the chair she was tied to shattered and released her hands.

Before attacking the other guy, Natasha addressed the room. “Are you just going to watch or join the party, Spider-Man?”

He decided, not because of the shout out, that now would be a good time to start fighting. Peter swung both his legs out and nailed the guy still standing right in the chest as he landed. He could physically hear the air leave his body upon impact and while the hit on the floor could not have been comfortable, he was already getting up to fight back. The guy pulled a gun from his pocket and Peter swore into the mask. When did thugs stop using like, crow bars and stuff? Why did they have to advance past the 40s?

“Hey man, use your words—“ But the guy already aimed & took the shot, forcing Peter to jump out of the way before he could get struck in the chest. A small part of his shoe was singed and he made sure to land on the other when he appeared behind the dude. Two quick webs had his hands tied, but Peter made the unfortunate mistake of not disarming him first. Now the gun was just webbed to his fully functional hand. He turned and aimed in the same motion & Peter knew before he even tried to move that he was going to be too late.

The finger moved to pull the trigger but as it touched, a firm black boot kicked it out of the way. The shot split a couple of boxes resting in the back cleanly in half, and still simmering with the passing moments. That shot was intended for Peter. He took another fraction of a second to dwell on the fact that he would have been cut hot-dog style in this dingy warehouse and by the time he came to Natasha already had the guy pinned. She must have hit him harder than Peter noticed because the dude was knocked out cold when she started dragging him to one of the pipes jutting from the wall. She held his hand up high and said, “Care to do the honors?”

Peter webbed without a word. He really had to work on his fighting skills. After today, would it seem skeptical if Peter asked his Aunt for lessons? Maybe he’d wait a week or so, let the freshness of her battle with Spider-Man wear off, but he definitely mentally marked himself down for after school karate with Nat.

“Find anything good Spider-Man?” She asked casually, as if she hadn’t just been tied to a chair and nearly beaten. He stuttered on his words while his brain tried to form a coherent sentence. Right, he had almost forgotten about the ever present threat of death in this haunted house.

“I uh—-yea—yeah, I found something.” Natasha was patting the guy down until she came across a StarkWatch that was obviously the Black Widows. When Peter further elaborate she stood up straight, pocketed the watch and waited patiently for him to continue.

“I—Iron Man is the target.” It felt weird to say it objectively. If this were Peter and Nat naturally he would be pacing and panicking and spewing out flawed plan after flawed plan to save Tony Stark. Now he was choking back his feelings and un-ironically calling his dad ‘Iron Man’.

“Yeah, if Hammer is involved I got that, he hates the guy.” She pushed past him and towards the office space Peter had previously vacated. Despite it being clear she could care less whether Spider-Man was here or not, he trailed after her, trying to make his point faster.

“No, they want don’t want him for some revenge thing!” For some reason he felt like a petulant child right now, begging to be understood. She was in danger! Why didn’t she seem to care?

“So it’s a money thing?”

“No, they want the reactor! The thing keeping him alive, they need it to—- to charge their space guns!”

That elicited some minor response from Natasha. He was used to her being collected, but this impassive persona was a new edition. A raised eyebrow was all he got and not a foot in her step faltered.

“He dies if he doesn’t have that.” She replied. And without forethought, or sanity, or even common sense Peter couldn’t help but shout “I know!” that’s what he’d been trying to get at.

She turned and stopped then to inspect Spider-Man full on, her eyes narrowing. Suddenly Peter felt smaller than he’d ever felt and he resisted the urge to take a few steps back. She wasn’t genetically modified— she couldn’t see behind the mask, but Natasha had always had a way with knowing everyone’s secrets. Could she know his?

“How did you know I would be here, Spider-Man?”

Peter gulped. Of this, he was actually totally innocent. He hadn’t been following her, he’d been tracing the Vulture! But still with her steely eyes bearing down and the very real knowledge she could overpower him blindfolded, he watched his words.

“I… didn’t. I’ve been trailing the Vulture for weeks now. His minions are the only guys I can catch wind of though. I saw someone being kidnapped and I acted! I thought…” How does one phrase ‘I know you were with my dad yesterday, how and why are you back in the Western world? “—I didn’t think this was your typical area, anyway.”

“Yeah well, Iron Man is being hunted.” She continued moving at that, and Peter ran to catch up. “The Avengers are a pretty tight group, we protect our own.”

Peter wants to shout “I know” again, but this time he bites his tongue, a little touched that Nat admits to actually liking Tony Stark. He’d pass that information on if he knew it wouldn’t get him poisoned, or worse: lectured.

Natasha passes the old crates that separate the sides of the room and whistles at the sight that unfolds. “Dude’s got a fetish. He’s one dart-board-with-Tony’s-face away from being a cartoon villain.”

She pulls the StarkWatch out from her pocket and wraps it around her wrist, speaking fast Russian into the monitor. When she’s finished with her synopsis, the agent flicks through file after file on the first desk, throwing the rejects from the table ungracefully.

“Where did you find the reactor files? I’m just getting a lot of P.I. work on the Avengers here, I already know Cap’s got a Planet Fitness membership.”

Peter points to the table in the far back, next to where the board with all of the Avenger’s whereabouts are. “Back there, I was going to grab it when… you were done…”

“Being kidnapped?”

“—-pretending to be kidnapped.” That actually got a small smirk out of her. Ha! Even without being her nephew he could still make the Black Widow crack!

She follows his direction and starts rifling through the papers on the desk. Peter takes this moment to look around for what his frantic mind might have missed before, like whether these dude’s had pieced together the Peter Parker + Spider-Man formula yet. His Spidey picture is mid-action, soaring dangerously close to hitting the roof of a NYC cab, and the information below is most of his rounds the past few months. They had gaps, Peter found solace in that, but the major events like the Brooklyn High School attack, and Peter’s recent mugging experience had full reports. Luckily the only mention of ‘Peter Parker’ was in Tony’s descriptor.

“Did you take the file?” Natasha’s voice brings him back to Earth. When he’d heard the escalation of Natasha’s fight, he’d left all he found where it was. He’d planned on coming back here to retrieve the evidence, but as of this moment he hadn’t touched it. If it was gone then that meant they weren’t alone.

“No, I left it—–“ Peter’s ears picked up the sound of slamming doors. In an otherwise quiet neighborhood, there was no mistaking the sound of combat boot on gravel, and men running with heavy artillery. Although Natasha’s hearing was not super enhanced by any means, it was clear from her expression she had picked up on the change as well.

“I don’t suppose you brought friends?” Natasha joked, grabbing papers at random. Peter was stuck between wanting to web the entrance up to give them more time, and wanting to get the hell out of dodge before those boots even had the chance to shoot. Someone had already been in here that escaped Peter’s notice previously, so obviously he wasn’t on his A-game.

Thankfully, Natasha made the final call. “Care to give me a lift?” She nodded up at the window above their heads. Peter agreed, but first shot two webs at Natasha. One, on her hand to keep whatever file she had been searching in firmly to her hand, and the other still connected to Peter’s wrist, on her shoulder to act as something of a harness should Peter lose grip mid-flight.

“Thanks for flying Spider Air!” Peter joked, just as the sounds of the entrance door being kicked open sounded. They swung through the window when the first shots rang out, chipping the stone next to their heads and Peter had to remind himself that he was holding onto the Black fucking Widow, meaning that Spider-Man was not allowed to scream. From their eagle eye view outside there were more than ten black vans lined up, and more people than Peter could count running into the warehouse they had just vacated.

When it became obvious they hadn’t been followed, Peter landed on a barren roof top to catch his breath. He cut the web tethering them, and Natasha immediately poked at something on her StarkWatch after steadying herself.

“Not bad, Spider-Man. The Avengers will be here any moment if you want to stick around. Join the team for a night. They’ll have cleaned ship by the time we get there, but there’s always something to be learned from the ruins.”

She was reading something on the screen, but Natasha meant the invitation seriously. Maybe in another life he could take that offer, raid the base, and play superhero with the big leagues—– but everybody’s luck runs out eventually. It’s best not to fix what isn’t broken.

“I can’t, I’ve got…” what, homework? Spider-MAN is reportedly in his mid-twenties not a fifteen year old with the mother of all secrets.

“—a thing. But thank you for the offer. Maybe next time, Nat.” As soon as the word slips his lips he knows he fucked up. It’s like in those cheesy movies where the record scratches and the voice over goes ‘yep, that’s me’ just before they get punched in the face or thrown into a dumpster. Instead the silence weighs between them like a dumbbell, and Peter seriously debates having his vocal cords removed.

She noticed, stopped whatever message she was typing out and sized Peter up like a challenge.

“How did you know my name?” Her voice isn’t playful like it is with Peter, or even bored like it is with Spider-Man. It’s icy, and lethal and laced with enough venom to kill a man. She’s got a hand where he suspects a gun would lie, and her eyes are staring down Peter’s mask with such an intense fury that Peter can physically feel the heat. If he was a smarter man, he would have already started speaking right now, but the fear bubbling in stomach has him frozen.

“Answer me.”

“I—I saw it in the file! Natasha—– I mean, I just assumed the Nat part.” He explained, both pleased and devastated by his own answer. What kind of person just ‘assumes’ it’s cool to call the world’s deadliest assassin by a nickname? The file thing was good, but there really was no coming back from calling her ‘Nat’.

She nodded like she’d accept it, but wasn’t happy about it. “Natasha.” She corrected simply, and walked to the edge of the roof. The Avengers tower was a mere shadow in the distance, but still close enough to be visible. The Avengers had to be closing in to their location now, Peter had already wasted too much time.

He stumbled over his feet as he started towards the opposite direction. “It was uh, nice to meet you, Miss. Natasha. Agent. Black Widow.”

He didn’t stick around long enough to let the embarrassment set in, and immediately flung himself off the building and soaring through back alleyways. Momentarily neglecting to dwell on the cosmic fuck up that was the single word ‘Nat’, he had more important things to focus on.

Natasha was in danger. Tony was in danger. Every person on that board, every person Peter loved was currently being targeted by an alien-tech gang. If he was going to do anything about it, and he was, he’d have to step up his game. Spider-Man is going to save the Avengers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! This one actually involves some semblance of a plot so woohoo, not to mention some good ole fashioned spider bros! Next chapter will be my first time writing certain specific voices so im just gonna apologize in advance, but hopefully that'll be up by the weekend (maybe). I will say that we will get some quality iron dad scenes in chapter 5 & 6 so i promise that is to come! Thank for reading, let me know what you think! :)


	4. The Winter Soldier & Falcon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> friendly reminder my beta Steelmagnolia237 is amazing

There really has to be something said about irony. I mean, he’s heard the saying that karma is a bitch, but timing is definitely the final boss. How does it make sense that when Peter is trying to lay low, he catches wind of a kidnapping, and when he’s trying to get to work, the streets are as silent as a phone in a movie theater? He’s trying to save lives here, universe! The least you could do is throw a bone.

He’s been taking double patrols ever since that Saturday he met _the black widow_. Tony was supposed to be back yesterday, but during his flight they got a call about a lead and ended up in Miami rather than New York. Had Peter not found out what he had four nights’ previous he might have been a little annoyed by this change in plan and thus delay in reunion, but considering the gamble here was Tony’s life, he’d handled it with grace.

The same could not be said for Tony. It was already a red flag when Tony declined a face call, claiming he ‘couldn’t find the right lighting’ (Peter distinctly remembers his father once saying he had no bad angles) but even his voice when they talked sounded harrowed. Beaten down, and lacking the confidence his father radiated. Natasha told him what she found and Tony had the nerve to tell Peter to lay low. To “stick to the tower & Happy’s side” like it was _his_ mechanical heart they were aiming for. Peter was supposed to be the unknowing bystander in this so while he agreed to all of his dad’s points verbally, he didn’t actually follow them. Stick to the tower? What kind of garbage advice was that----- How was he supposed to get any work done from a place Tony had effectively baby-proofed?

If Tony asked, Peter had instructed FRIDAY to say Peter was staying late after school. Technically speaking he was flying by a high school now, and it was pretty late, so that wasn’t really lying. The only difference was that it wasn’t his school, and he wasn’t Peter Parker right now. Tony didn’t ask whether he was Spider-Man, so it was really his fault for not specifying.

He was just about to make his fifth round-a-bout in the same neighborhood when Karen’s inbox pinged.

“I found a match to a license plate found outside both the high school and the warehouse. Here are the directions.”

A turn on his left was highlighted, and from there it was a short five minute swing to a tattered old building. Not exactly abandoned, as there were cars lining the streets and a few lights on inside, but definitely next on the list of demolition. There were only a few windows not boarded up, and the cover of trees to its right side only heightened the ‘haunted house’ vibes. The only indication that this was a high-end crime headquarters was the high quality cameras on such a low quality building, but considering most cameras weren’t programmed to follow a genetically modified teenage spider, he was able to slip past them fairly easily.

 Shrouded by the cover of night time Peter began to scale the building. FRIDAY was running scans to get some insight on what he would face on the inside, but considering this dinosaur must’ve been built before civilization, it was hard to get a definite read.

He was able to enter through (okay break, but like…lightly break) the window, and as his feet landed he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was quiet. And not to sound like a naïve victim in a horror movie… but _too quiet_. “Karen, anything?” He whispered, staying behind the closed door like a shield.

“There’s heat signatures, but no movement.” What? Were they all just standing there like some kind of demented surprise party? Were all the people on the other end of this door the twins from the shining, begging Peter to come play with them? Peter chanced his luck and opened the door, web at the ready. When the hallway unfolded before him it was to a scene like no other he’d experienced. There were guards---- at least ten of them. But all of them were unconscious in various positions. Awkwardly Peter toed one of them, just to make sure he wasn’t walking into a trap, and as no response was given Peter continued on his way skeptically.

The next hallway was virtually the same, only less dense. More guards with their eyes closed, and guns fallen from limp hands and Peter was genuinely concerned as to whether he’d stumbled into some sort of murder house. If Superheroes were real, couldn’t ghosts be? And if ghosts were real then-----

“AH!” He screamed unintentionally as he came face to barrel with the open end of a gun. His stomach jumped into his throat, and his shock electrocuted his nerves. The gun was directed right at his nose, with no wiggle room for Peter to move a muscle without the risk of death.

“Woah, woah, don’t shoot!” He had to actually remind himself that he was a superhero, and that he needed to open his eyes if he was going to play braveheart. He opened one instead and had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

He’s seen the Truman show---- he knows when it’s clear someone is intentionally fucking with his life. Before this hell month started he’d traded sparse words with the Avengers while in the mask. He’d been to max three meetings, and each time he’d bonded with The Wasp more than any other person in that room----- his dad included. And now, he was staring down his uncle’s gun, with no easy exit to disappear out of. Not to mention, this was his one tangible lead so _Bucky freaking Barnes_ or not Peter was going to finish the mission.

Bucky didn’t crack a smile at the expression, but behind him another figure emerged: Sam Wilson. He gave a lopsided grin, and opened his mouth to speak before being cut off by the former.

“I swear to god Sam, if you say ‘language’...”

Sam rolled his eyes, “What will you do, Barnes? Tell on me? Make me watch one of Cap’s educational videos? Besides, it was the kid who said it---not me.”

“I’m not a kid!”

“Anyone under thirty is a kid, kid. Do you seriously want to tell me you’re in your thirties?”

“------yes?” Ever since his surprise visit to Dr. Bruce’s ER he’d had Karen permanently switch on the voice modifier. It sounded somewhat natural, but definitely twitched at the slightest change in pitch. And Peter’s vocal cords be damned--- they betrayed him in that moment.

“Your voice just went up twenty octaves, so now you’re a lying kid.”

Peter was on the cusp of retaliating (and on the brink of using the infamous ‘I know you are’) when Bucky responded instead.

“As thrilling as Spider-Man’s mid-life crisis is, we’re kind of in the middle of something.” It was then Peter remembered the hordes of bodyguards sprawled through the corridors. Oh yeah, he was here for a reason. And that reason was currently being obstructed by last year’s winners of the game ‘risk’.

Clearly they held the same time-consuming annoyance.

“Good point---- what _are_ you doing here, Spider-Man?”

Maybe it was the fact Bucky’s gun had lowered and Peter had never had anything but a fun relationship with these two but his guard wasn’t really at high alert. He just kind of stood his ground, and looked around theatrically as if his presence was obvious.

“I came for the refreshments. What are you doing here?”

Sam and Bucky shared an undecipherable look. Bucky’s eyebrow quipped and he nodded towards Peter, and with their one shared brain cell (no he wasn’t still salty about losing), Sam answered instead.

“We got a tip The Vulture would be here. He’s kind of going after our pack.”

Peter ignored the menace in his stomach begging to exploit Sam’s use of the word ‘pack’. Were they a ragtag group of supernatural misfits brought together by a full moon and a love of friendship? Maturely, he ignored it to answer, “I know, I found the files with Black Widow” instead.

Peter also knew that Sam & Bucky knew that. Nat had been particularly hell bent on identifying her spider in crime for the night, until Peter stealthily diverted her attention with a work out session that hurt worse than literally being stabbed.

 “Yeah, we heard.” Sam replied. Peter was expecting an ‘I know’ from their end, they were in the gym the same time as he was after all. What he wasn’t expecting is the follow-up. “What I don’t get is why you’re still here. You wouldn’t even be on the Vulture’s board if you stopped going after him. He’s got it out for the Avengers, you could still walk away man.”

The notion actually baffled Peter for a minute. Being questioned on why he would be a part of something purely to help out the Avengers----his family----- was a new development. Peter Parker had an answer to that question, but what did Spider-Man? That it was the right thing to do? Was that answer too Captain America for him?

“Seems like you need all the help you can get.” At that Bucky actually managed a weak smile. But he spun on his heel in the same moment, pointed his gun, and fired just as a figure on the far end of the hallway came around the corner. Peter had super senses and even he hadn’t heard that coming. Bucky turned to look at Sam then, and with a smug grin said “twelve.” He didn’t wait for a response as he strut down the corridor, Sam followed wordlessly and Peter was inclined to do the same.  

They were met with few other guards on the way---- all of which were taken down before they could realize what was happening (14 Bucky, 9 Sam). Someone had obviously pressed the ‘panic’ button as in their pursuit the fluorescents went out, and they were now guided by only the red glow of emergency lights. At the far end of a dead end corridor was a single gray steel door. Peter had watched enough true crime shows to know that anything cast in an ominous glow, and sitting at the end of a long hallway had to be the kingpin. Peter stepped forward, but the motion was cut short by a strong, metallic hand.

“Wait.” Bucky scanned the barren space before them like he could see lasers zig-zagging across it. Either Peter was the world’s worst spy, or Bucky had finally lost it.

“It’s too easy.”

Peter felt a little offended. He had just scaled a five-some story building and while he personally hadn’t discarded any hired guns, Bucky & Sam clearly had. It wasn’t impossible by any means, but was Peter really so wrong to say it had a light sprinkle of effort? Couldn’t they just go in, arrest the Vulture, and get a celebratory pizza afterwards? Was that too much to ask?

“I hate to say it, but he’s right.” Falcon uncharacteristically agreed.

“He knows we’re here.” Sam explained further. Peter understood the implication of the sentence. It’s a trap. And they have the option of walking into it, or losing the Vulture again. Maybe it’s the false confidence that comes from walking through a battlefield of fallen enemies but Peter wants to end this. If they catch the Vulture, that leads them to Hammer. And with both the Vulture & Hammer behind bars, Tony can come home and stop flying to every new grease fire that explodes.  

“Well, I’m not going home.” Peter countered stubbornly.

“Me neither. I’m one ‘saving Tony’s life’ away from being Best Man.”

Bucky scoffed, “I’d like to see you try.”

Great, so even Steve had his wedding party lined up! Obviously, now was not the time to dwell but he was starting to wonder if he should really be Bruce’s plus one after all.  

They stand in contemplative silence for another minute before Bucky’s face changes. “Wait…” Bucky’s eyes search the room as if the answer lie hidden there.  “He knows we’re here.”

Sam’s eye roll was almost legendary. “Dude, I know you’re old but your hearing can not be going out already, I just------“

“No Sam.” Bucky took a step forward. “He knows _we’re_ here.” Weirdly in sync, they both turned towards Peter.

“What?” Twenty minutes ago he would have relished in the thought of going in alone, but now it wasn’t just _his_ life in question.

“He knows about us, Spider-kid, but he doesn’t know about you. What Bucky is saying is we go in, and you find a way around---- attack from behind.”

Oh good, so his uncles-in-law _are_ crazy.

“What? Going into a trap---- _knowing it’s a trap_ cannot be your plan!”

“You got a better idea?”

Peter stuttered through a few syllables before eventually falling silent. What would Peter say at their eulogy? ‘Nice guys, but poor planners’? Was that too crass? 

Bucky & Sam didn’t wait for approval, but assumed position at either side of the door. Sam gave him a look back as if to say ‘what are you still doing standing around’, and Peter only had a second to web up to the ceiling before Bucky & Sam had kicked the door down----guns raised.

Peter crawled to the threshold of the door, and looked around for what he could possibly utilize in this plan, trying to ignore the ruckus inside.

“Hands up.” That was Sam’s voice. Peter moved to crane his neck over the side, and felt his hand cover something cool. A vent! He could go all John McClane and crawl his way through. A voice cut through the thick silence that peter could unfortunately recognize. They were right----the Vulture was here. The hairs on Peter’s skin stood straight and Peter once again, cursed this flawed plan.

“You know, your little fraternity has really been messing with my operation.”

He didn’t sound scared, or even vaguely unsettled. Bucky & Sam had been right this was a trap. Peter opened the vent as stealthily as possible----thankfully shrouded by the boom of Sam’s voice in the distance.

“Yeah, you haven’t really been helping us much either.”

It’s a tight fit but he manages. After a couple of seconds he reaches a partition that overlooks the center of the room. Bucky & Sam still have their guns raised but stand just behind the middle line. The Vulture, on the other end is leaning on a table littered with space junk as if this were a normal Wednesday night for him.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, Falcon. But I do believe it is _you_ currently trespassing.”

“House-warming.” The banter didn’t hold the same connotation it was meant to. Both sides knew the other was hiding something, and neither wanted to show their hand first. This resulted in something of a stand-off, until Bucky & Sam tested the waters and moved forward. Their steps set off something, and although their bodies remained unnaturally stoic, the guns fell from their palms, and the screams resonated. There was a small metallic disk now visible that was smoldering just inches from where their frozen feet stood. It gave off a light opaque glow that Peter had only ever seen used in the Vulture’s weapons belt.

“Do you like it? Futuristic, I know, but it only has one good shot in it. It’s kind of like an animal trap. Only instead of the net reigning you in, it’s your own body.” The Vulture stepped forward so that the top of his head was now visible from Peter’s angle. The rest of his technology was strapped to his back between the shoulder blades of his metallic wings. He was a few steps away from the Avengers but he stopped short, kicking the metallic disk out of the way in favor of getting in Bucky’s face. Bucky made a sound in his throat that didn’t quite materialize on his frozen lips.

“Its effects are powerful, but short lasting. _Relax_ , Winter Soldier.”

Peter didn’t stay to play audience---- choosing instead to continue his crawl until he was faced with a single exit point through the last ventilation shaft. Whatever device he’d just used left Bucky & Sam at the mercy of any plans the Vulture had in store. And if his history proved anything, it wouldn’t be in their favor.

“I know you’ve done your homework. Your spider friends made sure to make a mess last time. You know it’s not the Winter Solider & Falcon I want.”

Peter opened the vent softly, popping his head out first to assess the situation. The Vulture’s back was to him now, and he was in clear view of his uncles. Sam gave him one wide-eyed look meant to convey some hidden message and Bucky did not stir. Peter could tell he knew---- he was an infamous assassin after all, but his eyes stayed trained on the Vulture.

“-----How far do you think Tony Stark and Steve Rogers would go for you two? Hm? A call to the police? A ransom? A _rescue mission_ , perhaps?”

Peter was climbing down and onto the table now, watching the Vulture’s moves with careful trepidation. His hands moved and gathered two hanging restraints from his belt. The first was a typical pair with the chain link restraints, and were promptly applied to Sam’s wrists. The second was more high-tech, and rather than two conjoined rings, it was just one silver loop, just about the size of a neck. It blinked red in his hand and Peter was vaguely reminded of a conversation the Avengers had about new ‘power suppressing’ technology from the raft.

“go….to….hell….” Sam was able to speak through clenched teeth, which had to be a good sign they were slowly coming to. But the Vulture paid him no mind, raising his hands towards Bucky’s throat just when Sam groan-screamed “Now!”

Peter was already halfway through shooting his web when Sam’s command echoed, and unfortunately it gave the Vulture just enough time to turn. His web had been intended for the restraint, however when it moved that meant the web shot directly into Bucky Barnes’ face. Although Sam & Bucky were slightly tremoring----- a sign their motor functions were returning------ there was no way his hands were functional enough to get the web off.

“Sorry!” Peter called to Bucky, mid-swing. He focused on the Vulture then whose face contorted in rage at the sight of Spider-Man.

“I thought I’d squashed you!” He yelled, throwing a punch Peter narrowly avoided. Peter used his webs to grab at the Vulture’s hands but he really felt out of practice here. Not to mention he couldn’t really swing around carelessly considering his uncles couldn’t exactly jump out of the way.

“Maybe don’t be such a stereotypical Bond villain by hiding out in abandoned buildings?” He wasn’t really sure what the goal was here. Using Peter as their ‘secret’ weapon had many plot holes---- for example that Peter was the least trained out of everyone in the room. He couldn’t overpower the Vulture in hand-to-hand, and Bucky & Sam had at least a few more minutes until they could feel their toes. What he needed was back-up, but clearly that wish would go un-granted.

They danced through a couple of well-placed hits, dodges & webs until Peter realized he had effectively been backed into a corner. The Vulture laughed maniacally, and a hand too quick to dodge gripped his throat. The force threw him back into the wall where a 5’8 sized indentation surely now resided.

“I don’t think Stark cares if I kill you.” His grip tightened. He could feel everything in that moment----- the tightness in his chest as his body screamed for air, the blood rushing to his head, and the black spots that danced in his vision. How cruel would it be for Peter to just never return home? Would they know then, once Spider-Man disappeared and Peter Parker vanished that they were one in the same? Would they care? Seconds passed and Peter could swear he heard Ben calling his name.

A shot fired from behind, and suddenly Peter was dropped to his knees and heaving in breaths greedily. Through the tears fogging up his mask he could see that the Vulture had been hit badly, and was now gripping an arm that seeped blood.

Bucky released his precarious grip on the gun in question, forcing his free hand to mechanically tear at the web on his face. His motions were still sluggish and restrained but at least he had some function.

Peter was still seeing three mirror images of everything in his view after such oxygen deprivation, so while he raised his web shooters towards the man, he doubted any of them landed. The triple Vulture stumbled up and away from Bucky & Sam momentarily giving Peter some peace of mind. They were definitely less statuesque with every passing second. He’s just got to stall.

“You won’t get to Tony. We’re the Avengers----- we won’t let you get close.”

The Vulture’s right army hung in a bloody mess, but his left reached and pulled out another small silver contraption. He smirked, threw it towards Peter, and said “Then I guess I’ll go through you.”

 It started beeping.

There was a growing sound of propellers, and Peter’s focus had just returned when the Vulture’s feet were lifting up from the ground.

“I’ll tell Stark where to find the bodies.” The Vulture turned sideways then and blew out one of the side windows, flying through the now empty window-sill. Peter’s web caught onto something, but whatever it was just broke off and fell lamely out the window.

In sync, all three of them stared down at the now rapid beeps pulsating through the disk.

“Buck” Sam said, and in the same second Bucky’s metallic hand wrapped around the handcuffs and tore the chain link.  The beeps were quickly losing the time in between and Peter remembered just then that they were not on the ground floor. When this thing explodes, there’s nowhere to go but down, and despite his rapid healing there’s no way he survives five flights of building on him.

There was no time to think so Peter mindlessly yelled “grab him!” To whichever one would listen and made a break for the broken window. He threw one web out towards the pair to drag them behind him and one towards the trees adjacent to the building. Just as Bucky & Sam crossed the threshold, tethered to his web, the beeping ceased and for a second Peter was a little miffed they’d just flown out of a building because of a dud.

Then the boom shook the integrity of his spine and suddenly his grip on both webs faltered. Their trajectory pushed them far enough into the thicket of trees where Peter Parker found himself descending branch by branch to the forest floor. Upon impact he was starting to wonder if he’d prefer to be buried deep in concrete right now, because not only was his throat still sore from the whole almost dying ordeal, but his spine was most definitely bruised. He could only roll around a bit and groan, almost harmoniously, with the others.

“Well I can definitely _feel_ again.” Sam wheezed.

 

 

They spent another few minutes allowing their bodies to absorb the pain before even attempting to get up. The explosion definitely alerted a few unsuspecting bystanders and in the distance sirens blared as they raced closer to their location. Peter was no enemy of the police, but he also was not particularly keen to stay back and answer their questions. They always wanted to know who was behind the mask, and while his little double meaning quips could slide past people who did not know Peter Parker in the slightest, he doubted they would fly over the heads of Bucky & Sam. They invited him back to the tower to use some of ‘Stark’s nerd tech’ (rude) to track where the Vulture might have gone to but Peter declined politely, knowing his curfew was rapidly approaching. He was almost in the clear when Sam called for him.

“Hey, Spider-kid!”

If he asked him who he was, or whether he wanted to come to the wedding or something Peter was going to mcfreaking lose it.

“You did good back there… And this is the lamest thing I’ve ever done… aside from being friends with Bucky.” Bucky gave him a metallic middle finger. “But my nephew is a huge fan.  Do you mind?” He held up a phone, and Peter’s stomach shifted through a wide array of emotions. He wanted to simultaneously laugh in Sam’s face & run away screaming, because taking a picture of peter, _FOR_ peter was a new level of irony. 

“a-anything for a fan.” He joked, moved into the frame and watched as the shutter clapped of a smiling Falcon, spider-Man and Winter Soldier. He heard Sam taunt Bucky with "I'm so going to be best man after this" and his anxiety was reaching cataclysmic levels. He'd heard of toeing the line, but right now he was doing somersaults over it. Try as he might to sound cavalier, his voice wavered when he said good-bye.

 

 

 

That night he swung home, and eavesdropped fearfully as Natasha, Sam & Bucky asked FRIDAY if she could face-match a person with a mask on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!! I've written one-liners from Bucky & Sam but never a dedicated chapter so I'm very interested in whether their characterization was butchered or not! Also the next two chapters will hopefully come a lot faster since I wrote most of those before I even started this fic bc they are both very angsty & very fluffy (although for sure not this weekend, I'm traveling!) . Anyway thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed :)


	5. Iron Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me last chapter: updates will come sooner!  
> also me: *takes the entire length of the cold war to re-write this mess*
> 
> but more importantly, THANK YOU SO MUCH for the support last chapter. It seriously still makes me smile just thinking about it, I was and am blown away by the love. You're all invited to the Stark-Rogers wedding, thnx for coming to my tedtalk

Peter raised his hand, made a fist and threw away his hundredth virtual scrap sheet. It made a ‘ding’ sound when it reached the trash can and Peter had half a mind to destroy the system for taunting him.

His webs were weak. After his little after school special with Bucky & Sam, he knew his web integrity was slipping. Granted he hadn’t made it with withstanding an exploding super-bomb in mind, but now that is was a very real threat it was time to get with the times. The blast must have really messed with something on his right hand web, as the swing back home was short-lasting and resulted in an infinitely embarrassing Spider-Man face diving into a busy New York intersection. The videos were all over Youtube and Ned had personally taken it upon himself to edit slow-mo and the song ‘O Fortuna’ to the exact moment Peter’s face met the pavement. If he was planning on going toe-to-toe with alien gun wielding super villains, he was going to need the tech for it. Despite his rapid healing, his jaw still hurt and he wiggled it left & right like that would kick start the healing when a knock sounded at his door.

Quickly Peter closed out the program he was working on and tried to sound like his heart didn’t just jump through his chest when he said “Come in!”

Tony Stark walked through the door, hand over his eyes. “Are you decent? I know I’m rich, but I could never afford a good enough therapist for-----“

“Dad!” Peter laughed. At the sound, Tony removed his hand and smiled down at Peter. Another second spent just relishing in the fact they were in the same room again, and then simultaneously, they went for the hug. He knew he’d missed his dad but with the way he clung so tightly now he hadn’t realized the gravity of it. He was alive & Peter was alive and finally their paths had crossed. They split a moment later and sat side by side on Peter’s bed, but Tony’s hand still rested on Peter’s back like an anchor.

Everything had been so up in the air lately. And phone calls and texts served their purpose but there was no band-aid quite like physical connection. He understands why Tony was currently on-call for every super villain attack, but it didn’t make the separation any easier. Not to mention, he was still kind of waiting for the news that literally everyone else knew. Hell, Ned told him his parents were getting married before Tony did.

There was a thick tension in the air as Peter waited for the grand moment where Tony finally confided in him.

“So you heard the news?” Tony asked casually. After years of history between the two, Peter was smart enough to know that this ‘casually’ was forced. Tony Stark put on an impressive front for the media, but he really knew how to work up the nerves for just about anything. Luckily his outlet was something productive like tinkering, but there’s a critical point where a genius goes from Einstein to Doctor Frankenstein.

“Yeah, and look dad, I’m really happy for you---- I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“How could I? I only found out about it this morning!”

Peter did a double take.

“You found out about your own engagement… this morning?”

“OH! You’re talking about the engagement.”

Peter rolled his eyes. Yeah, his dad was basically one big ball of stress trying to mask itself in bad humor. What’s new?

“Yes, I’m talking about the engagement! What are you talking about?”

“Ben & Jerry’s new flavor, Avengers Ice-emble. I thought the title was a little derivative but…”

“Dad.” If Peter doesn’t stop him now, he’ll talk himself into oblivion. Why the hell were two of the Earth’s mightiest heroes so afraid of the opinion of a fifteen year old kid? And more importantly why couldn’t they see he was supportive? It was literally every fifteen year olds dream to be raised by Iron Man and Captain America, it’s not like he was planning on screaming “I object!” at the ceremony.

“I think it’s a great idea. And about time, honestly. I was really getting tired of throwing away little scraps of paper that said ‘Mr. Tony Rogers’ with little hearts all over them.” Missing him doesn’t mean Peter isn’t about to give his old man some shit for the delay of information.

Tony gave him his signature Tony look™ of rapprochement.

“Okay, first of all, I would never take his name. Do you know how much the big ‘STARK’ sign on the tower cost? More than Steve’s shield.” Tony scoffed at the notion. And honestly yeah, Peter was a little satisfied with that. Peter Parker Stark-Rogers sounded like a bit of a mouthful.

“And second of all… you’re really okay with it?” Tony continued cautiously. His grandiose had left and now was the man who kept watch over his bed when Peter was young and afraid of the dark. They’d been so out of step these past couple of weeks that Peter had forgotten how nice it was to just… _sit still_ with his father.  

“More than okay. I mean someone needs to keep you in line when I go to college.” Peter shouldered Tony jokingly and Tony was gracious enough to feign hurt.

“Bold of you to assume you’re not going to Stark Universities in this very compound.”

“There is no Stark University.”

“Yet.”

Peter laughed but the seriousness of the implication did not evade him. It was what, a mere three years until Peter would vacate his room? The one constant in his life, and surely Tony’s had always been each other. People, places, times---- everything changed. Tony was the one thing he’d thought they’d have forever. It’s not like college meant death or anything, but it definitely meant change.  

The silence had not been as contemplative for Tony as it had been for Peter. He fidgeted for a whole minute, his eyes scanning the room but never landing on Peter until he spoke. When he did, his brown eyes shone with a harsh reserve that had Peter questioning the severity. What did he know?

“Okay, fine, Pete. You want to be the first to know about things?”

Peter’s eyebrow quirked as if daring Tony to continue. If this was another passive or self-deprecating joke, Peter was going to get emancipated.

“Will you be my best man?”

Whatever snarky reply Peter was about to snap back with died before manifestation. There was a long list of things Peter had expected his father to say and that had not even been a footnote. Best Man? This was the wedding of the millennium and the billionaire, superhero, engineer legend wanted Peter as his best man? Not to mention, there were many people in his life who would happily take that spot, with the credentials to back it. Rhodey, Bruce, Strange, hell even Clint would make a joke out of it but still feel honored. Peter was just a kid. Sure he was Tony’s kid but he figured he’d be something embarrassing like the usher or ring-bearer at most.  

“M-me?” He asked, still vaguely skeptical this was all some elaborate prank.  

“No, my other son. Yes you, Pete! I want you up there with me.”

He hadn’t realized what he’d been waiting for, but now that he had it he couldn’t believe he’d been okay without it. His dad wasn’t upset, or dodging him, or done with him. He was nervous. Nervous to ask Peter a clearly important question and nervous because he thought, for some ungodly reason, that Peter might say no. It would be laughable if he knew he wouldn’t get grounded for ruining the moment.

“Dad…” Peter said, still slightly confused on why it was even a question. “Of course!”

Tony smiled one of those rare, genuine grins that was usually only reserved for a new invention, or Peter’s report card. The usually coy and vocal Tony Stark seemed to have lost his nerve, and instead of quip about what an honor it was, he simply wrapped his arms around Peter tightly. His hands came to rest on the back of Peter’s head and back, and for a brief moment he felt like he was 8 years old again. Regardless of the recent Iron Man edition, Tony had always been Peter’s hero. But with the way Tony was holding so tightly onto him now, the sentiment was clearly mutual.

There was a knock on the door, and Tony still didn’t end the embrace.

“Leave a message!” His voice was slightly muffled by the crook of Peter’s shoulder, but definitely audible enough through the door. Peter repressed his own call to leave them be, grounded only by the embrace. It had been two weeks since they’d been in the same room, didn’t they deserve a minute before the next emergency?

“Tony, you’re going to want to see this.” Rhodey was probably the only person Tony would not excommunicate for interrupting, but even still when Tony finally pulled back Peter could see the annoyance etched on his face.

“Yeah, the office is closed right now.” He added. Peter was simultaneously torn between not wanting Tony to go so soon after being reunited, and knowing how much value he was to the team. The world may need him when it’s in peril, but Peter just simply needs him. There was still so much to talk about----- Peter’s embarrassing Home Ec story, how Sam had ordered Bucky’s suit with the words ‘SENIOR CITIZEN’ embroidered on the pocket, and the conversation he’d eavesdropped in on between Bruce & Thor the other day. But, _the needs of the many_ , though right Mr. Spock?

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”

Tony sighed, but pushed up from the bed regardless. A very irate Tony mumbled “just _one_ day…” as he opened the door. Rhodey’s face showed no signs of playing around, and Tony snapped into super hero mode instantaneously.

“What is it?”

“We’ve got a location.”

“Hammer?”

“Vulture.”

Tony swore and didn’t even bother to pretend to be ashamed.

“Pete, stay here.” He commanded, before calling his Iron Man suit on his watch and running away alongside Rhodes. Despite the buzz in Peter’s fingers to act now, he patiently waited until they were out of sight to pull up the exact specifications of Rhodey’s claim. “FRIDAY, what’s happening?” He asked, watching news clip after news clip of the chaos in New York.

“Attack in Queens, sir. An explosion went off on Maple Street. First responders arrived and shots were fired.” The screen he was now watching seemed more like a cloud of soot haphazardly broken apart by pedestrians running for safety.

Steve, Clint, and Sam emerged from the scene and Peter let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t an easy battle as those guns held their own against the enhanced, but Peter found solace in the fact that the whole team would be there eventually----defending it. He’d been really toying with the fates by how many times his path had crossed the Avengers considering he’d teamed up with five in the past month alone; but the one line he would not cross is fighting alongside his father. He was content to only suit up if things turned sour before he noticed the corner store in the back of the shot.

“Is that….” The smoke occupying most of the screen faded slightly so Peter could read the sign. His heart stuttered & stopped as he realized that he knew that shop very very well.

Mr. Delmar’s.

A block away from May’s house.

He ignored FRIDAY’s calls about following Tony’s orders and had his suit on & functional within minutes of this revelation.

“FRI, if Tony comes back and asks----I’m at Ned’s. Override command.”

No one was home so he was able to leave the compound at top speed, dragging his webs through the skyscrapers of New York with a painful velocity. It was a late Friday night---- May was always home then. Being his only living relative on his birth mother’s side, Peter made an attempt to see her as often as possible, usually on weekends or holidays. He’d even stay with her, and formerly Ben when Tony was away for those longer stretches. May was always home, and if there was trouble he would do absolutely anything to save her.

“Karen, call May!” Peter yells into the mask, doubling past 10th street, 9th, 8th… nearing the outskirts of Queens but still having a ways to go. The call started, but every brrrriiing sent electric shock through Peter’s bones. May hated phones, and rarely ever kept hers on, but by god she had to pick up just this once. If she was…

“Call unavailable.”

“Call again!”

Peter groaned loudly into the mask, and rounded a corner into a certified shit-show. There was soot and dust everywhere from where the outside of a building had collapsed, and it was only broken by streams of light from guns or Avengers. May’s house was mere minutes from here, but he’d have to go through the chaos to get there. Behind the noise of a ringing phone there were screams and grunts from both friends and foes alike and Peter had just dodged a wayward fire when the phone finally stopped ringing.

“Peter?”

“May!” He dodged a hit and turned into a shadowed back alleyway. She didn’t sound in peril, but maybe it was like shock or something. “Where are you right now?”

“Peter honey, I can’t talk right now. I picked up an extra shift at the hospital, and there was a crisis! Do not go to Queens right now, there’s-----there’s something happening!”

He could feel the relief fill his veins. She wasn’t home. Since he was already out here, he’d stay in the fight and just steer clear of the iron man in the sky. Maybe run perimeter, keep any other pedestrians out of harm’s way. But at least he could find solace in the fact that May was away from danger.

“Alright, May, I-----“ BOOM. A loud explosion shook the building Peter was standing next to, and he was reminded instantly that he was kind of in the middle of something.

“Peter, what was that?”

“Surround sound movie…. I gotta go, May, I love you!” The call ended and Peter sprung back into action. Wanda and Rhodey were ushering a group of people escape in the opposite direction of the central building and Peter took the cue to help the stragglers. He’d headed towards a couple on the opposite end who had fallen when a whirring gun blocked his line of sight. The guy hesitated and Peter was able to web him up before a shot could fire, but his spider sense alerted him to another threat behind him. He had no time to react except to make a motion to move which got him out of the direct hit.  

The blast shot backwards through glass on sheer proximity alone. He hit the ground head on, and felt a nasty lump form from where his head met the flooring. He could hear the goon advancing on the crunch of glass and although Peter knew he needed to get up, his body resisted. He could take a shot right? Those guns could literally shoot through titanium but he could just take one, right? He wasn’t supposed to be in this fight anyway, there had to be something on his suit or in the air he that could save him.

As he was disproving his own hypothesis he heard a familiar whir of thrusters and suddenly he was staring down a red and gold back rather than a hired gun. He heard rather than saw the repulsors power up and take down their mark and Peter was still blinking back stars trying to process this. Did the man who had asked him to be best man twenty minutes ago just unwittingly save him? He had enough coherency in that moment to wish that literally anybody else had saved his ass. He would’ve taken any other Avenger, or hell even Deadpool but instead he was staring down Iron Man’s arc reactor now. Would it be rude to run away?

“I heard you were in on the action, underoos.”

Peter was still breathing heavily, shaking his head to clear it and pushing up quickly. Karen’s voice modifier had never let him down yet, but this was the ultimate test. _Keep your sentences short, Parker._ You’ll never see another lab again if Tony figures it all out after literally saving his life.

“Yeah, uh… mutual enemies?”

Tony nodded, and then motioned towards the doorway. Spider-Man scrambled up, but kept his distance.

“Good to have you join the party. Arachnids first.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice to put space between them. They were now in the main building that had obviously caused this whole ordeal to spiral. In the distance he could hear the grunts of a fight, and the firing of several shots every few seconds. They’d been chasing the Vulture for weeks now, and he’d caused enough damage to the city and his family. It ends here, it has to end here.

Peter pushed forward into the next room until his spider sense acted just a moment before an explosion set off and he had a second to jump and tackle Iron Man down with him.

“ _Fuck_ , doesn’t this dude ever take a vacation?” Iron Man was breathing hard and clearly shocked to have been saved by a low-level vigilante. He didn’t seem as controlled as he did in the media clips. He would never have missed a clear red flag when walking into a fight, and surely wouldn’t dwell on it now. He was rushing---- trying to get out of this quickly, and that made him sloppy. Peter doubted any of Spider-Man’s words would pacify the man so if they were going to survive this, they were going to need a quick fix to quench Tony’s urge to rush.

“Why not use the magnetic repulsors?” Those could disable the Vulture’s weapons system long enough for a physical attack, and gain Tony & Steve the upper hand they needed to apprehend this thug.

“The magnetic repulsors are programmed to hone in on guns that respond to regular polarity, we don’t know what kind of weapons we’re dealing with. At best it lags his guns, at worst it destabilizes all of our------- _wait_ ,” He turned to face Peter head on now, his masked eyes raking over a formula Spider-Man could not see. “How did you know about the magnetic repulsors?”

There was a crash somewhere in the background that sounded like it caught fire and Peter thought that that accurately summarized the mood. He had literally written the code for those blasters, but considering they were a prototype the exact specs hadn’t been released to the general public yet. With the mask was still down, Peter didn’t have to face his father’s imploring glare but the implication was tangible. He wouldn’t get away with the ole ‘saw it in a file’ trick.

“I-----I may have been in your lab recently. Dr. Bruce…. Stitched me up after an unfortunate…. Stabbing.” That made sense right? That he would’ve seen it while fighting away the cold clammy hands of death? Sense or not, he was going to have to commit now that it had been verbalized.

 “I saw the blueprints----- good design.” He was basically complimenting himself, but Tony seemed to take it. He gave a little half shrug and said “I’ve got a good tech” simply.

Behind them another explosion shook the ground, and a few grunts of pain could be heard. Even if they weren’t in the middle of a fight to the death, Peter would have taken any excuse under the sun to get away from the man under the mask. Tony could get a bit scatterbrained (a hereditary trait passed on to his only son), but when he really analyzed something he went all in. It was only a matter of time before Peter choose the wrong words and the illusion was shattered.

“Care to do the honors, Spider-Man?”

Peter nodded and webbed up to the ceiling. From there he saw the Vulture, desperately fighting against Clint, Sam, and Steve with an onslaught of hyper-tech. There were goons rushing to the scene, but Captain America easily disposed of them as they appeared. Without thought or possibly reason Peter understood that for this to work Tony needed to be their surprise attack. And Peter the distraction.

“Hey! Big bird!”

The call definitely diverted his attention----- and weapons. The Vulture screeched something animalistic and followed Peter’s trajectory with dangerous precision. “Cockroach!” He yelled, the sound echoing through every crevice in the joint.

“Actually, Spider!” The other Avengers were beat back momentarily, and the Vulture’s focus solely on the teenager.

Spider-Man danced through an onslaught of fire for a few seconds before ultimately having to dive behind an adjacent wall of steel. It had been only seconds that he could withstand the heat, and definitely not enough time for Tony to do whatever genius plan he’d concocted. He needed to get back out there, but he also needed a better plan than some light banter with the enemy.

Apparently he wasn’t the only seeking refuge.

“Spider-Man.” Clint nodded cordially towards Peter, before loading his arrow and side stepping out to fire. There was a small collision sound and a scream of pain so clearly Clint hit whatever his mark was. A little ways down Captain used his shield to stop a direct hit on Falcon and soon all of the Avengers currently in battle were now recouping.

“M-Mr. Hawkeye.”

Seriously, was this a meet & greet? Did Spider-Man unwittingly win some contest to slowly meet all of the Avengers one by one? Because if so, he’d like a refund and compensation for the heart attacks he was being dealt daily. He doesn’t mean to be ungrateful, but if he’d wanted a big family get together he would’ve thrown a birthday party.

“Heard you’ve been teaming up with some of the Avengers. Should I be offended I wasn’t invited?”

Peter laughed softly, the motion highlighting that there was some bruising on his ribs that made the action painful. After being shot through a window and getting hit by one futuristic gun after another he was going to have some battle scars that would be difficult to explain to mother hen Tony. He doubted he could come up with a convenient bully that attacked him during the exact times of the fight in Queens. Whatever, that’s a problem for future Peter. Present Peter has enough problems to deal with.

 “Not unless you like losing.” He responded comically. Clint laughed, but the moment was ruined by the more pressing matters at hand. Tony didn’t wait for the distraction any longer and he, Steve, and Sam attempted to attack head on. Clint moved from the shadows and joined the fight by taking down the goons as they charged by and Peter webbed up what he could. Sam & Clint got stuck at the perimeter with a wave of new guns to take down, and the rest surged forward. The Vulture kept a pretty impenetrable shield of high tech weapons at his disposal and Peter, Steve, and Tony were working as one to distract and attack from all angles. Although he was a little busy taking down another one of the Vulture’s henchmen while simultaneously attempting to sideswipe the Vulture’s legs, he couldn’t help but realize this was their first family reunion in a month. He’d mention it, if the notion wouldn’t get him grounded until the ripe old age of infinity.

Moments passed, and the realization that their attacks were doing little dawned on him. Every thought Peter had, the Vulture was a step ahead, and his workers were only multiplying by the second. Iron Man was firing on all cylinders, and Steve was blocking hits with his shield as fast as they came but the Vulture had defenses far beyond their realm of knowledge. They were losing. And just as the thought came to mind, it seemed to have crossed Tony’s as well. Following his reckless streak, he mumbled something about “using the prototype anyway” and turned to position himself. In that moment where Tony’s back was to the action, a hired gun had lined up the shot, and fired.

Suddenly he was swinging in between Iron Man and the blast.

When it collides with his suit, all of his nerve endings scream in protest. He understands that he’s falling, and more accurately crashing through an adjacent wall. He understands that he’s lying in the rubble of it---- in some dark room where the only sound comes from the battle he left. He understands he should get up and get back out there, help his dads, and the rest of his family finally take this guy down.

 But none of it matters. He can’t move a single strained muscle, and the copper he’s tasting in his mouth is definitely his own blood. One side of his brain is campaigning to get up, ignore the pain until they’re out of this and then deal with it later, while the other is making a very compelling case for sleep. Minutes pass and the only indication of change he receives is that of his multiple contusions trying and failing to fix themselves.

His dulled senses register that there’s someone walking over the gravel anyway. Someone’s come for him, to rescue him! They must have won! He’s struggling to breathe through such pain that he wouldn’t even care if it were Tony Stark himself, ready to unmask the vigilante who was stupid enough to jump into the direct line of fire. He would take a thousand Steve-lectures and disapproving Tony glares if it meant that someone, _anyone_ could stop this pain from spreading.

His eyelids start to grow heavy, and his consciousness slipping, and just before the final close, a face comes into view. It’s hazy and distorted through a warp of confused thoughts but he definitely recognizes it.

One thing becomes abundantly clear before his vision blacks out:

this is not a rescue mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dunnnnnn
> 
> So this chapter was a real messy bitch & I apologize for that but I still hope you liked it! Next chapter is very Tony/Angst centric so yikes.jpg. Does the Best Man thing make up for Tony's absence in ch. 1-4? If not just think of this: Bucky & Peter are the best men in this wedding imagine the chaotic pure energy at the wedding of the century.
> 
> ALSO did anyone else see that the new spidey comic referenced B99 so it is now canon law that Peter Parker is a jake peralta stan. AS ALWAYS please comment what you think, I absolutely love to hear from you all!! One chapter to go, thanks again :)


	6. Avengers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it!! Honestly i want to personally thank each and every one of you who has stuck through this mess and slow updates until the very end! All the comments mean SO MUCH to me you will never know and all the support has literally been blinding. I love you all like Thor loves literally everybody.   
> I'm posting this before going to work bc I was too excited to finally finish it so excuse the HORRIBLE editing, I'm sure there's 20000 mistakes I'll notice when I come back. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Fri, where is Peter?”

“Ned’s, sir.”

“Perfect.”

Tony released a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair to collect his thoughts. They’d caught the Vulture. Point _one_ to the Avengers. But when SHIELD arrived and the Vulture had been carted off, Tony had seldom felt as powerless as he did in that moment. The Vulture was a pawn. A pawn with an army, sure----- but once the bishop gets taken off the board the King plays to kill. Their battle was far from over.

All the Avengers sat patiently in the briefing room. Some like Sam and Wanda were tending to minor wounds, others like Natasha and Bucky were huddled in deep conversation, and the rest were some mixture of nervous quiet energy. For as much of a win as catching the most recent big bad was, the tension in the air hadn’t ceased at all. A month ago it had all been happy champagne and dishing out wedding roles and now it was wondering who was the next target.

“Anyone have any good news on Hammer they’ve decided to save until this moment? Acceptable answers include: he turned himself because he’s an idiot.”

“SHIELD operatives reported sight of him in Montana a few days back. But they haven’t responded in 48 hours since, and are presumed to be dead.”

Great, more footprints and no path.

“Alright, well we’ll define what good news is to Sargent Man Bun later.”

Montana was good, for now. It was hours away and while it was obscure enough to entice some slight panic at what his sinister plans must be, it meant Tony had time before the next big near death experience. Hell, maybe Tony would even get the night off and take Peter & Steve to that Thai place Peter had literally not shut up about. Maybe he could have a normal family night like they did in movies before eventually everything turns to shit.

Was that too naïve?

The room went back to its natural state of passive conversation. They were still waiting on confirmation from SHIELD that the Vulture made it to the ice box, so they’d have about another hour wasted in this conference room that might as well be spent catching up one the lives of one another. It just so happened that Tony kind of had a thing for one of his teammates.

“What do you say to a little celebration, Rogers? Dinner tonight, you, me, and our kid? And by dinner I mean take out and whatever movie Pete subjects us to.”

 It still didn’t feel quite real to have a fiancé. Everybody, aside from his son, had been more of a phase than a permanent fixture. Even family like his parents, or Obadiah were fleeting memories to him now but marriage was quite literally the promise of forever. Forever was an F word that even his sailor’s mouth would have never uttered. Now he was the man that had gotten down on one knee and asked for it. He’d never dreamed that his ‘forever’ could look this perfect, but hey he’s not one to complain.

“Are you asking me out, Stark? You know I’m happily engaged, right?” Steve’s smile gave away his attempt to be coy and while it was obviously cavity inducingly sweet, it also tore down Tony’s own façade. _Damn that smile._

“We could _engage_ in something else…” He was about to add more, and probably too much to the ears of his unsuspecting teammates when FRIDAY cut him off.

“sir-----“

“Friday, unless the sky is legitimately falling, not now.”

“Sir, this is extremely time sensitive.”

Tony gave a dramatic sigh and an over the top eyeroll but motioned for FRIDAY to continue with her regularly scheduled programming or whatever. If Peter sent another goddamn Rick Roll to his mainframe…

The room lights dimmed and all attention was directed at the projection on the far wall. For a second, Tony thought there was a glitch in his system as the screen matched the same black as the atmosphere, but eventually a voice sounded to signify that the transmission was working.

“Tony Stark.” As mood-killing as it was, Tony actually sighed. Look, when you’re an evil villain you really don’t have to address your threats too specifically. If Tony was in a room with the entire Earth’s population and Hammer stood at the front and said “I will kill you”, Tony’s clever deduction skills would tell him who that message was meant for. Just say your piece and get on with it, this isn’t a Bond movie.

“As I’m sure everyone in your life eventually tells you----- I’m tired of your games. That flashlight in your chest is wasted potential. And as a proprietor of all things justice in this world, I’m going to need it from you. Granted, I understand you may need some incentive to cooperate…”

 _Better be some hell of an incentive_ Tony thought sarcastically.  If he was offering BOGO deals on pressed slacks or something Tony was really going to have to reprogram FRIDAYs system to reclassify the term ‘time sensitive’.

“How the mighty fall. And how easy it is to catch an Avenger.”

Tony did a mental head count of the room. Unless he suddenly had the math skills of a newborn, he was pretty sure the gang was all here. Cap, Nat, Clint, Rhodes, Sam, Bucky, Bruce and Wanda were all present and accounted for. The only ones not currently sitting in this room were Thor & T’Challa, both of which were royalty with enough guards and personal strength to obliterate this B-lister within seconds. Scott was the only maybe, but even he had the combined power of his groupies and a panic button which had not been set off yet. Either this guy had miscalculated or Tony didn’t know his own team.

“Anybody hiding a secret Avenger they neglected to tell me about?” Everybody shook their heads, looking at one another with mirrored looks of confusion.

“Maybe Thor?” Wanda offered, but Bruce discarded that immediately.

“No, I just talked to him. He’s in Asgard.”

“Thor knows how to work a phone?”

“Not really, it’s more like----“

The video changed focus then, and the red and blue mask of the vigilante known as Spider-Man focused up. His head was limp, and rested on his chest and when he didn’t react to the sudden lime light it was obvious he was unconscious. Not to sound crass, but this was not the incentive he’d expected. Sure, he liked Spider-Man well enough---- he didn’t make a lot of waves, and he played nice with others but most ransoms usually follow the rule of family or friends. Spider-Man was just an acquaintance, at best.

Everybody shifted uncomfortably regardless, their bleeding hearts breaking for a man they knew nothing about. Tony felt for them too, it was never good to see someone at the mercy of a villain due to no fault of their own. But this seemed personal for a few of them. Bruce’s mouth fell open in shock, and Bucky & Sam shared a mutual uncomfortable look. Steve looked away as if the sight were physically paining him, and Tony noticed the newfound tension in Nat’s stance. Had Tony been gone that long? Was Spider-Man really an Avenger now?

“Still not getting it?” A pale hand reached out and skimmed the line where Spider-Man’s mask met the suit. It was wrong to say it, but Tony’s interest was definitely piqued. He respected the mask and never pried further than necessary, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. With his variance in voice modifiers, Tony could piece together that this dude had to be somewhere in the early twenties spectrum, and he was kind of expecting a younger, more respectful Clint. All that said, there was a clear invasion of privacy in this moment, and Tony was stuck between wanting to look away out of respect, and asking FRIDAY to run a full background check on whoever’s face appeared.

 The fingers on screen coiled around the fabric, and pulled up harshly so that the hair now visible on screen stood up at wild angles. It kind of looked like…

_No._

Tony’s arm started to do that thing where TV static filled his veins rather than blood, and he had to use the other one to steady himself on the table before he toppled over. This fucking kid. This fucking kid! No, excuse him---- _HIS_ fucking kid! Tony had talked to Spider-Man, he’d fought with him! He’d made those asinine jokes he tells in battle, and saved his life when Spider-Man was staring down the barrel of a gun not four hours ago. All the while---- every word, every look, every moment---- he’d been staring down his son. Like a dam breaking, it all pieced together. Why Peter would always come home with bruises, but never name the bully. Why he always seemed to be breathless when Tony called out of schedule, and why Ned basically read off the first results in a google search for ‘how to lie to your friends parents’. Honestly, Tony thought Peter was hiding a secret relationship from him, and while that stung a little, it was nothing compared to the head shot he felt now.

The hand didn’t allow Tony to stew on the moment for too long, instead it stroked Peter’s face where his black eye lay and boiled Tony’s blood to the brim.

“Ring any bells?” The voice cooed. Peter was still unmoving, but the slight up & down motion of his chest kept Tony grounded in reality. He was alive, and that was the important thing for now.

“Maybe he should tell you himself?.” The hand disappeared, and a sound like an electric whip resonated, echoing deep in Tony’s bones. Peter flailed as electricity surged through the chair and into his skin, and his eyes---while bloodshot, opened lazily. When he took in his surrounds he snapped into attention, watching whoever it was behind the camera with steely eyes. Only Tony could see the terror in them.

“One wrong move, and you die Spider-kid.” If he understood that, he didn’t respond. His eyes swiveled around the room as if trying to gather his surroundings until they landed on the camera. Peter’s wide, saucer eyes were staring down Tony now. _Please be another nightmare_ , Tony prayed foolishly.

“This isn’t how surprise parties usually work, dude.” Peter had chosen that moment to speak, and that particular comment earned him another shock. His teeth clamped down together as he bit back a scream, and when the pain stopped he was left heavily panting and red-faced. The pallor of his skin was a clear indication of the physical toll the day was taking, but even still he didn’t back down.

“Anything you’d like to say to dear old dad, Petey?” Something animalistic roared in Tony’s stomach at the use of his nickname in the mouth of a villain. Peter’s eyes went wide and he lost all the notion of a poker face. Apparently it hadn’t registered before that he was currently unmasked and being sent to Tony. It was truly a twisted world where a child feared his father’s knowledge more than an actual literal kidnapping.

“I think you have the wrong dude, I’m just a cosplayer. Flattering you think I look anything like the real Spider-Man, that dude is co------“ another shock, and Tony feels sick as he looks away from the screen. The scream however, he cannot ignore. Steve has an iron grip on Tony’s forearm as they watch with baited breath but his white knuckles mean nothing for the lonely child on screen.

“Do me a favor, and ask dad to save you. Tell him what will happen if you don’t.”

 _Play along, please, play along_. While an audible plea for his life might shatter the very fragile glass of his heart it would spare Peter what Tony could only assume was a world of hurt. _Please, think of yourself for once._

Peter took a beat to think, and then sized the camera up sadly. “Dad…” he started slowly. “-----don’t give in, please he can’t get the reactor-----“

Instead of using his archaic electric chair, the hand swiped out and punched Peter square in the jaw. His head snapped to the side, and while the hand retracted Tony could see Peter spit blood onto the floor. He looked up sheepishly, and almost apologetically towards the camera. As usual, Tony’s prayers were left unanswered.

“He’s definitely your kid, Tony. Never knows when to shut up.”

The focus shook and the video got distorted when the pale hand picked the camera up from its dolly. The hand with blood----Peter’s blood ran through a tangled mess of white-blonde hair leaving small crimson specks in its wake. The face was unmistakable, even through Tony’s rage.

Hammer.

“The prodigal son dies at midnight, Stark. You know what I want.”

The transmission cut off there, replaced by an ominous block letters forming an address. In the distance he heard FRIDAY say something about taking deep breaths or counting sheep or some shit that Tony obviously ignored. If he was being honest, the whole ‘lack of oxygen reaching his brain’ thing was really the least of his problems.  

 _It was all Tony’s fault_. It had to be Iron Man who put the idea of playing superhero into his son’s impressionable head, and it was Tony Stark who put his son in that chair. The one person on this Earth who he can’t live without, even that he had failed to protect.

Distantly he was aware of the Avengers trying to break his haze, but it has to be a loud shout to reach Tony’s home at rock bottom.

“Tony, we’ve got to move.” Natasha was the first to break the barrier. Everybody was crowded around Tony and his trouble breathing only multiplied, worsening his planning skills. Bruce moved back, using his hand to guide the others to give him space while only Steve remained put. That was his kid in that costume. That poorly designed piece of fabric that could get obliterated by a light breeze. His Peter who had jumped out of a goddamn window with Tweedledum & TweedleBucky, and his kid who pushed Tony to the ground when the first bomb went off. Bruce told him that Spider-Man had life-saving surgery the other day, and that meant Bruce had saved _his son_.

“FRIDAY, can you tell us where that came from?” Steve was tethered to Tony like an anchor still, but the soldier in him never rests. Slowly, ever so slowly, Tony allowed his fiancé’s voice to bring him back to Earth.

“Unfortunately not, sir. The address is untraceable. My systems are not programmed to decode this level of security.”

That was the last thing he needed to hear. Peter was trapped and beaten and Tony had no way of getting to him.

“I’m on it.” Natasha replied instead of allowing Tony to spiral again.

“Check the city cameras. Find out where the last place Peter, or Spider-Man was seen.” Rhodes said, following Natasha with Wanda trailing.

 “I’ll canvas the Queens building. Sam?” Bucky asked.

“I’m with you.”  

“I’ll prep the medical lab, and call Helen.” Bruce followed the others out until only Tony and Steve remained in the briefing room.

“Tony.” Steve’s voice, while grounding still felt miles away. He couldn’t shake the nausea. They had all been right---- every last damn reporter and click bait author who bet how long it would take Tony Stark to fuck up raising a kid, and he had proven them right. His son hadn’t even felt comfortable enough to tell his father that he was behind the mask, regardless of the fact that Tony Stark was a freaking _Avenger_.  

What was he thinking?

“Tony, this isn’t your fault.”

He really didn’t want to play the blame game right now. He never really wins anyway.

But it’s not about him. Right now it’s about 140 pounds of frightened teenager being tortured for something he had no part in. Right now it’s about saving the one thing he can’t live without..  

“FRIDAY, keep going against that firewall, I want an IP address now. Keep the audio/visual and check for any extenuating factors------ the ocean, a car horn, anything. Steve…”

Steve’s face, while only inches from Tony’s and radiating a nervous energy snapped into Captain mode when Tony found his voice. The Avengers save _the_ world. Now it’s time for them to save theirs.

“Don’t get too close, but figure out what that address means. Obviously Peter won’t be there, but if I know Hammer it’s going to mean something. And check in with the Vulture, he’s got to break his vow of silence at some point.” Steve nodded, and then moved to leave. The second their contact broke, Tony felt the cold of dead air like a dip in the Artic Sea. Steve paused at the door as if a thought had only just crossed his mind.

“You won’t do anything stupid if I leave you alone, right?”

Tony knew what he meant. And he also knew that lying to a future spouse had hold some plethora of bad karma. But telling Steve that he would literally rip the arc reactor out of his still beating chest with his bare hands if it meant Peter could have even a minute longer on this Earth would be a discussion best saved for a later date. He’d give his team until 11:59 to come up with a plan A, but come the stroke of midnight Peter Stark is coming home one way or another.

“Genius only, Rogers.” He diverted, adding a signature wink for good measure. His insides felt like a Molotov cocktail of nervous energy that was set to explode at any moment, but his poker face had gotten him this far, right? Steve took the reply with only a slight look of apprehension before following his mission.

With Cap’s departure, Tony fell back into his chair, and in a hollow voice that resonated like a eulogy asked FRIDAY to play the video again. There was something he was missing, and although Hammer’s message felt like a million tiny stab wounds, he knew it was his duty to find it. He would never give up on the kid that saved his life in more ways than one.  

 

 

9:00

 

“The prodigal son-----“ Tony pauses the video, and pinches the bridge of his nose as a means to control his breathing. He’d analyzed every word in the video. Every look, every eye twitch, every motion had been documented and translated and still Tony was staring down a steaming plate of nothing. Nobody had notified him of any miraculous epiphanies on their end, and as the hours ticked away he could feel his resolve fall with it. _Peter comes home one way or another._ He repeated mentally, stabilizing his panic attack if only momentarily.

They needed something basic to go off of first. If that video was from China, or Australia, or freaking Mars then they were already damned by the time constraints. They needed to know a very basic area to cover, and with that thought Tony found himself walking in a stupor to his command center (Peter’s name for the room with the Towers mainframe).

Natasha made no indication of sensing Tony’s presence as he entered, remaining hunched over the glow of the screen. Her green eyes danced over the numbers on screen, and her bottom lip was chewed to a harsh red. He elected to not comment on that fact, but rather look over her shoulder in the hopes he’d see Peter’s face smiling up at him saying ‘got you! I’m fine!’

No such luck.

“Anything?” Tony asked cautiously.

Natasha tapped something on the keys, and the numbers started to slow, if only slightly. She shook her head slightly and allowed for a full five minutes to pass before electing to use her words rather than vague expressions.

“We should have something just about…..” A ping sounded, and with a click two numbers stopped rotating. “Now.”

They stared in unison at the screen, and spoke in the same breath.

“New York.”

The two numbers now visible in the address were state-specific, and Tony had coded enough to know what his own state classified as. That was New York, and that meant Peter was within the Tower’s radius. _They had time_ , Peter was close! He wasn’t halfway around the world already, or even uncomfortably out of his grasp. Even on low his suit could make it to the state borders on any side, and if it really came down to it---- he would run. For the first time in what felt like decades he breathed a sigh of relief, and clapped his hand over Natasha’s. Predictably, she retracted her hand, but uncharacteristically she pushed up from her seat and wrapped Tony in a strong choke hold. Scratch that---- _a hug_. He was familiar with the concept, but wildly thrown for a curve by the gifter. He was a little busy blinking away his disbelief when he realized she was actually speaking as well.

“Bring my nephew home, Tony.”

The moment was gone as spontaneously as it had arisen, and suddenly Natasha was back to furiously typing out phrases even Tony could not decipher. Tony pondered the reality of the whole situation momentarily and then decided that was a battle best spent for another day.

 Peter was in New York. Close enough say the word ‘chance’.

 

 

 

Twenty three minutes. Twenty three minutes and say fifteen seconds since the last zap. He’d timed it. Considering his mental watch might be a little muddled after the events of the day, he’d give himself an error margin of 5 minutes, but the shocks were definitely scheduled to the half hour. Hammer said he knew about Peter’s abilities, but that wouldn’t be the first bluff he’d dealt. The schedule had to be based off Peter’s ability to get back to full strength, meaning to send him back down to the verge of unconsciousness every time he started to get back to full health. But if Pokemon Go taught him anything, it’s to never leave your opponent the chance to revive themselves. He was fidgeting against the wrist restraints now---- and while his wrists were torn to shreds and resembled more of a Saw vibe than a Superhero one, he could definitely feel something start to give. He was even vaguely toying with the idea of purposefully breaking his own bones to slip out of some of the trickier restraints but that was far too Deadpool of him. Not to mention there’s no guarantee it works or that he can get to Bruce’s lab before they reset.

He’s just about to attempt Natasha’s chair breaking technique (it works the same between wood and metal, right?) when he hears the buzz. Three seconds until the charge is ready and Peter’s body lights up like the Rockefeller Christmas tree. It feels like fire licking his veins, but that thought only crosses his mind for a second before his vision blacks and suddenly he feels nothing again.

 The sweet release of nothing.

 

 

 

Hours they don’t have passed by carelessly, and no new information arose. Tony was getting restless now as the clock neared 11:00, and their options as limited as before. He’d been to every shady storefront and abandoned warehouse he could find and not even a whisper of Peter was found. The state limits were a start, but unless new technology had been invented in the span of an hour there was no way they could go door-to-door with ‘have you seen my kid?’ posters. What they really needed to know was where Peter went after the fight and how in the hell Peter was blindsided by the attack.  

“We canvassed the whole place, no evidence of Spider-Man at all.” Bucky & Sam entered the conference room with hunched shoulders. Each took a seat on either side of Tony, and although the video stream had paused it had landed on an unfortunate scene of Peter’s wide brown puppy dog eyes staring directly into the camera. He could see the pain in them---- the fear swimming and brimming to catastrophic levels and yet this encrypted message was the closest he could get to him.

“Fri, turn it off please.” Tony whispered, turning instead to face the wonder bros. They had a mildly concerned reaction when it was just Spider-Man in that chair, and they had been Peter’s family since the first ‘assemble’. Even though that fifteen year old was technically Tony’s kid, there were clearly things even he didn’t know about him. The last hope was that he trusted someone, maybe even his uncles.

“It just doesn’t make sense. I know my son, he’d never leave mid fight. Spider-Man I can’t vouch for, but Peter wouldn’t leave… Although I guess I do have to stop addressing them as separate idiots.”

Bucky and Sam shared an annoying Siamese twin look rather than clarifying. Sam’s eyebrow had arched in an unrelenting manor, and Bucky’s head shook in a fraction of a moment as if to discard whatever thought had crossed Sam’s mind. Maybe Steve was fine with this whole twin telepathy thing but the absolute last problem Tony needed right now was more fucking secrets.

“By all means, out with it Flappy Bird. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Sam sighed, and elected to ignore Bucky’s pressing gaze.

“Spider-Man didn’t leave the fight.” He answered cryptically. When Tony gave no notion of asking him to further his explanation, Sam continued anyway. “He was hit by one of the Vulture’s men. I saw him fly into the wall next to us, but by that time Wanda and Nat had arrived to save the day and when I came back to check on him he was gone. I assumed he got up and walked out------- Spider-Man never stays long enough to chat, but I’m just now realizing what impact a direct hit must’ve had on him.”

“That’s ridiculous. Steve, Clint, you and I were all watching each other’s backs. I had my eye on all of those nerf guns, anyway we would’ve seen the blast and saved the kid---- Peter or not. The only time they weren’t in my view was when I------“ His words and his brain hit the same unforgiving realization at the same moment. “----when I turned.”

Spider-Man hadn’t come back then. Granted in that moment is when the reinforcements arrived, but that is the last time Tony remembers seeing the red and blue vigilante. If Peter was left unprotected because Tony had chosen that moment to experiment he wasn’t sure what his already fragile mental state might do. No, Sam had to have seen it wrong.

“It still doesn’t add up. Spider-Man was on my right when it went down, and you’re saying the East wall blew up. He wasn’t anywhere near it.”

This time Bucky’s word of apprehension was verbal.

 “ _Sam_.”  

“What if it’s important? He needs to know.” Sam answered. This conversation was doing nothing to quell his nerves. “Tony, the shot wasn’t meant for Spider-Man.”

Sam’s words echoed, and ever so slowly the memory returned to him. They were fighting against the Vulture and nothing was giving up. Spider-Man had mentioned the magnetic repulsors so the thought was fresh in his mind but he hadn’t planned on using them until he saw Steve take a couple of well placed blows. He lost sight of his party when he turned, asked FRIDAY to line up the shot and _bam._ Wanda, Rhodey and Natasha arrived to finish the job. Sam’s timeline checks out because Wanda and Natasha hadn’t seen Spider-Man. The shot was meant for Tony.

Peter sacrificed himself for Tony.

“But that’s not saying it’s your fault, Tony, it’s just----- we think Peter might’ve been kidnapped there.” Bucky offered, but the noise was muffled by a weird ringing in his ears. Not only was he the reason this was all happening to Peter, but apparently he was the envoy of death with every new revelation of information. Every staple in what would be Peter’s coffin had a tiny little Stark emblem on it, and the only saving grace Tony had was the knowledge that everything came second to his kid. The arc reactor was more of a burden than anything, and ever so slowly Tony was starting to change that 11:59 deadline. If all he brought to Peter was pain, that the rational solution would be to remove the problem from the equation… right?

“Did you find anything in the building?”

“No, we kind of did a number on the infrastructure on that place. It’s set for demolition later this week.” Tony nodded, and then stood up abrasively. He’d made enough mistakes to rival the word count of War & Peace but he was done letting his family pay for it. He’d make his peace--- say goodbye to Steve & the team, and make sure Peter knows he’s loved when he comes home but Tony Stark won’t play patron of death any longer. His hand had reached out for the door when it swung open from the other side to reveal a near breathless Steve Rogers.

“Steve?” Tony greeted curiously. Did he have some kind of ‘Tony self-sacrificing alert’ that had just gone off and thus prompted his untimely arrival at the conference room? Last he’d heard, Steve was still at the address Hammer had posted trying to figure out a plan of attack against the guards.

Steve didn’t take the moment to explain away his emergence, but rather stepped into the room purposefully and addressed them in a slightly breathless voice.

“I got to thinking. I fought with Spider-Man when I visited Peter at school a month ago---- obviously I didn’t know then what we know now but that’s beside the point. I’ve been wondering why the Vulture would hit a random high school ever since and I think… I think he was tracking.”

“Tracking who? Spider-Man?”

“No.” Steve answered Sam thoughtlessly and raised a hand that was wrapped around a strange black box. “Tracking this. It was in Peter’s backpack at the time, and it’s been in his room since. It’s definitely alien and if the Vulture could track such a small amount of energy here, couldn’t we trace it back? Wherever Peter is has to be guarded by his tech, right?”

If he wasn’t still shaking from the complete 360 of giving in to having hope he could’ve kissed Captain America where he stood. Genius! Absolutely genius. He’d get to the details of ‘fighting with Peter-man’ when the dust settled but that was just the breakthrough they needed.

“That could work…” Tony mumbled, purposefully walking back to the front of the room and turning his holograph system on.

“FRIDAY show me all the places giving off high electricity readings.”

Half the map lit up in tiny red highlighted specs. Most of it was in New York----like Times Square or Rockefeller but there were scattered marks all over the state. Steve then placed the device on the table where FRIDAY could begin to analyze its coding.

“OK, now show me all the places giving off the same energy readings as this thing.” About two thirds of the red faded away and they were left with about 50 high voltage sites scattered throughout the state. The clock was dangerously nearing 11:30 and 50 ‘possible’ holding cells was too loaded a list---- even with the full team. Tony slammed a fist on the table that only shook the map slightly. That’s the thing about hope. It cuts that much deeper to lose it.

“Dammit.” Sam breathed. “I really thought we’d solved it.”

“We can start now, and maybe get lucky? I mean this Hammer guy is going to want to hit you where it hurts most---- do any of these places mean anything to you, Tony?”

Iron Arm was right, if Peter was anywhere he was going to be somewhere that meant something to Tony. More than likely something from his profiteering days and probably relating to Stark Industries which had unintentionally turned Hammer into this pseudo villain. He’d thought about that before but all of his old labs had been repurposed. There was no way a fifteen year old kid was being held hostage in the middle of East End’s newest GAP.

“No. Nothing.” If only they could’ve gotten something from that damned video. But he’d analyzed every sound, every word, every noise that crossed that screen. He could recite it from memory now if need be and selfish as it was he could physically not stand to hear the cracking of Peter’s jaw again.

Steve had been flipping through the places on the list absentmindedly until he’d crossed one Tony had seen before. _Hit him where it hurts most_. The only place he could think to provide that level of isolation in the radius of the city would be somewhere Tony had built to be extremely exclusive and true to Hammer’s aesthetic, a monument to Tony’s past. If he was right, then they might have just stumbled across Peter’s holding cell.

“Wait!” Tony cried, and the screen momentarily froze. It wasn’t a lab. Hammer’s big bad metaphor for Tony to atone for his sins, it wasn’t about a lab! He had about five covert shipping yards around the state for their more classified contracts. That building and a few others had been left barren under Tony’s direct orders during the cleansing of his company years ago that had lit Hammer’s fire in the first place.

“Friday, cross reference all the old SI shipping yards with places giving off alien current readings.”

As expected five buildings remained. Of course Hammer would pour salt in the wound and repurpose all of them. “Bastard” Tony mumbled to no one but himself. If Hammer knew him as well as his games suggested then Peter was in the Government commissioned one just on the border of Jersey. That was where the biggest deals went down, and about 98% of the shipment to Afghanistan in the first place. It was the best lead he had, but still rested at an unfriendly 1 out of 5 chance.

“Cap, I want you and Wanda to go to the address Hammer posted. He’ll want to be there when I die so expect heavy push back. The rest of us will join if our warehouse is empty. Sam, check the North location, Bucky the East. FRIDAY?”

“yes sir?”

“Send Natasha the coordinates for the West end, and Clint and Rhodes those for the South. Tell them to meet Steve when they’re done and to alert me _immediately_ if they find Peter.”

Everyone snapped into position at the command and Tony was left no time to think except for the one recurring thought that he had finally done enough to save the person he loves most in this life.

 _Hold on_ , _Pete. Just hold on._

 

 

 

When Peter came to again, there was no marker of time. He hadn’t been knocked unconscious by the electricity since the one directly succeeding that damned video, which meant the voltages were slowly getting higher by the half hour. Peter knew Hammer never planned on letting him go regardless of the outcome of his arc reactor ploy so rationally that would make midnight the final shock. There was no telling time at this point so Peter was reduced to counting prayers. He didn’t consider himself particularly religious but considering his current state, what did he really have to lose?

The main mantra that waved like a banner in his mind is that Tony wouldn’t give in. With the power of the arc reactor Hammer could do twenty times more damage than previous, and the shock of losing the great Tony Stark would be something the world would never recover from. Peter, they would get over but Tony would be a detriment.

The only thing keeping him from slipping into the darkness were the names he counted like numbers. Ned, who stuck by his side since day 1. May who acted as his mother when he needed one. Natasha, Clint, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Bruce, Rhodey, Thor… all family who loved him unconditionally and who he loved in the same. Steve who was the last missing puzzle piece Tony & Peter needed, and most importantly Tony. Tony who he would miss the most.

As he hears the familiar 3 ticks and mentally prepares for another blackout he remembers that every hero has a tragic backstory: Steve lost Bucky. Bucky lost his memory. Thor lost his mother. Natasha lost her childhood. And so on.

Maybe he was just meant to be Tony’s.

 

 

 

Tony blasted off the door before he’d even properly landed. The SI shipping yard was littered with trashed parts and newer improvements that meant while it was currently unused, it had been recently touched. Guns and other higher weapons were strewn about but nearly everything had been stripped clean.

 Clearly they were in a rush to get out.

“Fri, show me any heat signatures.”

“Third door on your left, sir.”

FRIDAY hadn’t even finished with the sentence before Tony was running for the end. The wide ‘STARK INDUSTRIES: FOR A BETTER TOMORROW’ tattered banner highlighting the way down. If he were to give Hammer credit for anything it would definitely be his ability to know Tony Stark’s pressure points. If this had been the funeral home for his son, and he’d arrived too late, the man who came out the other end might’ve been unrecognizable.

He threw the hinges off the door in a wide sweeping manor, and used the light of his repulsors to fill the room. It was pitch black, and while he scanned with a small light, the glow was so dim compared to the wide expanse that he almost missed the tangled mess of brown hair at the far end of the room. _Almost._

“PETER!” Tied to a chair in his tattered red and blue spandex suit was Peter Parker Stark. There was a troubling burning scent hanging in the air when Tony neared and as the light from the reactor cast a blue glow on his face he could see every scratch with startling detail. His busted lip and clearly broken collarbone were the least of their problems here as every breath he sucked in was shallow and sounded strained. Tony disengaged the suit and stepped out to engage his son properly and even when Tony’s frantic hands ran up and down the scarring on his son’s face, Peter did not react. His eyes remained closed while Tony worked on the shackles encasing him---- careful to avoid the tender skin of Peter’s broken wrist where the metal met skin.

The first cuff came off with some level of difficulty, cut through with one of Tony’s more advanced lasers. He stopped short of cutting all the way for fear of hitting Peter and used an Iron hand to rip the cuff from its shackles manually. Again, Peter did not stir.

Tony’s mental clock blared like a siren with the knowledge he only had 2 minutes---- at best, till Hammer realizes the Avengers are knocking down his door and not Tony Stark. Assumedly only two minutes until he presses whatever sinister switch was made to kill Spider-Man. Desperately he’s working his way through the other one but the caked blood and rust made for a difficult ordeal.

“Come on, come on….” He whispers angrily. Peter groaned then, and turned his head ever so slightly. His eyes remained closed and consciousness clearly unavailable but it was the first reaction he’d gotten from him all day!

 “Pete! Peter stay with me, kid. Stay with me. I’m here, and I’m getting you out I just need you to work with me.” If he applied pressure from underneath than surely their combined strength could provide the last push they needed. Peter needed to wake up in the next minute or else the last two heirs to the Stark family name would end in this tetanus-infused hellhole.

“Pete come on, _please_!” He had recalled his suit now and was using all the strength it willed. A countdown appeared on screen for the last minute and something started ticking off in the background.

“PETER!” He screamed again as the clock hit :20 and finally, by the grace of God or Zeus or maybe Bono himself Peter’s eyes opened. He stared up at Iron Man for a fraction of a second before realizing what was happening and with one final yank orchestrated by the two men in harmony the cuff finally gave. Peter flung himself at Tony in the split second it took for the chair to light up like the fourth of July, and just for good old fashioned pettiness; Tony shot it to hell with his blaster.  

For a moment the only sound to be heard was the panting of Tony & Peter Stark and then that second was ruined when Tony exited the suit.

“Dad, are you okay?”

For a man who loved to hear his own voice, he was genuinely left speechless. Was------ was _he_ okay? Did he neglect to mention his alter ego to his super-enhanced family until they were left scrambling at the last moment? Did he just get kidnapped and held for ransom? Did he just narrowly avoid death by the nano second?

Instead of a response Tony grabbed Peter and held him tightly to his chest, content with the knowledge that he currently held the most important thing in the universe. Peter was alright. Peter was alright, and come what may no feeling could ever match this. His watch pinged and over his son’s head he checked the message to read that the Avengers had successfully completed their end and apprehended Hammer and his men. Currently they were en route to Tony’s location to pick up the Stark boys, and for once in his life Tony let the little hope bubble grow in his chest. Maybe it was just his proximity to Peter Stark but suddenly everything felt _lighter._

“Pete, are _you_ okay? The team is coming now to take you to the Medbay but is there anything I should be aware of right now?” They broke the embrace but remained in contact, with Peter’s hand on Tony’s forearm and both of Tony’s on Peter’s shoulders.

“I’m fine dad, I’m just----I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out and this definitely wasn’t my plans for the evening and I’m sorry I lied. And I’m sorry about that one time I voted for Sam’s plan in that first Avengers meeting, it’s just it was a really good plan and I didn’t want to seem biased and I’m also sorry for that time I broke Clint’s new bow I didn’t mean to sit on it it’s just, the suit is kind of hard to see out of and------“

“Pete… _Pete!_ ” Peter’s rambling stopped long enough for his wide fearful eyes to meet Tony’s. Frankly, he didn’t know what he was going to do about the whole ‘fifteen year old fighting crime’ deal but he did know that Peter being alive trumped any lecture. _For now_.

 “What do you say we just promise no more lies? For both of us. Tomorrow, preferably because something tells me you’re about twenty minutes away from falling asleep on your feet.”

Peter’s eyelids snapped back up from where they drooped and a small, tired smile lit Peter’s face.

“I’ll start now: I love you.”

Tony knew it was Peter’s attempt to be cute and avoid punishment, but dammit if it didn’t work. Tony smiled and wrapped an arm underneath Peter’s to support him as they walked out of the warehouse. The night wasn’t over--- they still had Bruce and Helen to see, but the important part was that they had each other.

“I love you too, Pete.” And that was another forever Tony was happy to abide by.

 “-----But that does not get absolve you of your sins: polyester? To fight? Are the bad guys you’re fighting 90’s fashion?”

Peter laughed softly and the sound stitched together all of Tony’s open wounds. They still had a lot to talk about _. A lot._ In no way was he planning on forgetting the events of today, both Peter’s secrets and his own. He had no idea what this meant for Spider-Man, or the Avengers, or hell even Iron Man.

But there was no rush. Right now, they had forever.

“Let’s go home, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! All the support has meant so mf much that I'm actually sad to complete the fic. I'm sure I'll get those damn feely feels about our fave duo again but for now thank you thank you for all the love, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! If there's interest I might do a follow up fic with the aftermath of Peter-man and the wedding as the main plot point bc let's face it, we'll never be done w these nerds. Also I kept Thor out of this because he's one of my faves and I genuinely cannot write him for shit but I really wanna add some thorbruce content to this site so hopefully more to come!! Bye friends!
> 
> May we all survive A4 amen.


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